Phoenix Among Dragons
by Minerva Aemilius
Summary: Story by wolves134, ghostwritten by me. Two teenage girls, kidnapped as infants and turned into chimeras, join the Elric brothers in their adventures. As the girls struggle to hide their secrets, Roy and Riza search for the truth behind a failed rescue mission from 12 years ago that continues to haunt them both. First anime AU. Eventual EdxOC, AlxOC, and Royai.
1. Prologue

_Credits: FMA is by Hiromu Arakawa, but the plot of this story and its original characters belong to __wolves134 (a.k.a. wolves3000 on deviantART), __with ghostwriting by me.__ Early chapters are rewrites of a partial story by wolves and sweetxmakiko from quizilla. The cover art is by noodlemie from deviantART.  
><em>_  
>Timeline notes: <em>This is a first anime AU fanfic. The first chapter is entirely a flashback, and the rest of the<em> chapters will each start with a brief flashback followed by the main story. The main story time period is referred to as "Present Day" (same as the first anime, around 1914), and the flashbacks will be labeled in relation to that date (e.g., "Twelve Years Ago"). While the story generally follows the first anime timeline, there will be some noticeable differences. _

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 1: Prologue<span>

_Twelve Years Ago  
>Central City<em>

Test Subject B awakened and opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the liquid surrounding her. Above the bulky breathing mask fitted over her mouth and nose, her vision gradually came back into focus: a tall, thin man with long, greasy black hair and a ragged goatee, in a white lab coat and glasses, was peering at her through the glass wall of her tube, making notes on a clipboard. When he had finished writing, the man pressed a button and the liquid around her began to drain away. Her heart began to beat faster with anxiety; it was time for experiments again. But she was comforted by the thought of the food she would receive afterward.

With the liquid gone, the front of the tube slid open. The mask stopped pumping and the girl reflexively pulled it away, coughing as she readjusted to breathing the room's air. While the man busied himself with some nearby equipment, she pushed tangled strands of reddish-brown hair and blue feathers away from her face and hugged herself to try to stay warm; she was dressed only in thin underwear and still soaking wet. _Are you awake?_ she silently called to her companion in the adjacent tube. There was no response, but the other girl would be awakened soon, she was certain. The routine had been the same for all of the three years they had been alive.

She shivered as the man wrapped a towel around her small body and picked her up, then carried her to an examination table and strapped her down. He rarely spoke to his test subjects, only when he was in a very good mood, and when he did it was often in large words they didn't understand, words like _selenium _and _molybdenum _and _decomposition_. But that was OK. They didn't like the man at all—his experiments usually hurt—and it was better when he didn't talk. They couldn't have answered him even if they'd wanted to. Neither girl had the ability to speak out loud the way he could, and he couldn't hear their thoughts the way they could hear each other's.

The man moved to the other tube, labeled Test Subject A, releasing the liquid and opening the glass as he had for the first. The brown-haired girl inside awoke and coughed as she removed her own breathing mask, carefully sliding its strap over the gray wolf's ears on her head, and silently greeted her friend _Hello._

_Experiment time again,_ sighed B.

_At least we'll get some food afterward,_ A sighed back.

The man wrapped the second girl in a towel and brought her to the other examination table. He was about to strap her down as well when a loud alarm began blaring, startling all three of them. "What in god's name—" the man muttered, but he looked frightened. "Stay here," he ordered the girls absently as he ran from the room.

_What's happening? _B asked fearfully, craning her neck from her restrained position. _Why did the man run away?_

_I don't know. _A sat up on her table. _But I'm not strapped down. We should run away too!_ Experimentally she slid from the table, stumbling and nearly falling as her legs wobbled uncertainly—it had been awhile since they'd been out of the tubes—then righting herself. She ran to B's table and began trying to undo her restraints.

Outside, they heard noises all from around their building: people shouting, running. A's small hands fumbled at the straps, unable to work out how the buckles opened. _You should run away! _urged B, her eyes wide with fear. _Go hide somewhere—_

_No! We'll go together! _A replied determinedly. But from one of the windows near the ceiling came a bright flash of blue light, causing both girls to gasp silently. Above their heads the window was opening, a man's face peering down at them. He began to climb into the room—

_Run away!_ B screamed at her companion. _RUN! _

And with a last terrified look at her trapped friend, A turned and fled out the door.

The man was in the room now, and B's heart hammered with terror. He was a big man, unlike any she'd ever seen, with a large white mark across his face in the shape of an 'X'. She whimpered in fear as he quickly approached her, unfastened her restraints with no difficulty, and picked her up in his arms. The shouting and running were louder now, moving inside the building with them. The man used one hand to slide the examination table under the high window, leapt up upon it, and then launched himself and the girl out of the window into the street. With her still in his arms, he took off running into the night, threading quickly through the streets and far from the receding shouts.

-o-o-o-o-

"Havoc, Falman, Fuery, cover the first floor! Hawkeye, Breda, with me!" Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang shouted. Without waiting for a response, he kicked down the metal door of the large brick building they were raiding and burst in, his gloved hands poised to snap, ready to rain down fire on anyone or anything that got in his way.

He ran down the corridor, trusting that Riza was keeping up behind his back and Breda behind her, both with guns armed and ready to fire. No one was in sight. Outside in the night, surrounding the nondescript building in Central City's warehouse district, more soldiers from the Investigations Division stood guard. But not enough—there were too many potential exits and no way to cover them all, a fact that scared him more than he could admit to his troops.

"This way," Roy shouted over his shoulder, running toward a staircase leading to the basement. After a quick scan to make sure no one was waiting to ambush them, he plunged down the stairs, Hawkeye and Breda following after.

-o-o-o-o-

Test Subject A ran through the hallway in blind panic. Terrifying noises—shouting, banging—were coming from the stairs at one end of the hall, so she ran to the other end, where a ladder led up to a small trap door in the ceiling. She climbed it frantically and burst through the trap door, which led to a tunnel that she had to get down on hands and knees to fit through. Warm air rushed past her as she crawled as quickly as she could. The tunnel led in three different directions; the first two were blocked by whirring fans, but the third led to another small door, and when the girl pushed her way through it, she found herself on the ground outside in the darkness. Shouting voices could still be heard around her, but there were no people in sight. Her heart still racing with terror, she thought mournfully of the friend she had abandoned inside, her eyes filling with tears.

"Make a sweep of the perimeter!" a man's bellow came from around the side of the building. The girl took off running again, crouching down behind the next building. She ducked out of sight just in time as a pair of men dressed in blue ran by. Hugging the shadows, she continued creeping to the next building, then the next, away from the voices.

With the shouts growing fainter behind her, as she rounded one corner she gasped silently and froze. A man in blue was sprawled out on the ground, lying on his stomach with the side of his face pressed against the pavement. She could hear him breathing—was he sleeping? Silently she tiptoed past him. Rounding the next building she saw no one else, and the voices were far away now. Ahead of her stretched a long, empty street. Taking a chance, she stopped creeping and simply ran.

-o-o-o-o-

Roy burst into the basement room—as their intel had told them, it was a laboratory. Scanning frantically, his eyes took in two huge glass tubes standing upright, still containing the remains of some clear liquid, each with a small breathing mask lying within. Each was large enough to have held a young child. Nearby were two metal examination tables, also both child-size, with restraints at the waist, arms and legs. Above their heads, a breeze blew through an open window at ground level. There were no people anywhere in sight. Roy stopped, breathing hard from running, and stared at the equipment in front of him. "There's no one here!" he exclaimed in frustration.

"Our intel said the girls would be here in this room," Riza said, her voice taut. Breda stayed silent, waiting for orders as his eyes swept between the two officers.

Roy grabbed the communications radio from his waist and spoke urgently into it. "Mustang here. There's no one in the basement lab. Tell me you found something, Havoc!"

There was a delay, then a crackle of static from the radio. "Fallman here, sir. Affirmative. We have a suspect in custody. Havoc's questioning him." Roy and Riza both let out a relieved sigh, exchanging hopeful looks.

"Where are the kids, Fallman?!" Roy shouted so loudly that the radio squealed with feedback.

There was another long pause. Then Fallman answered more quietly: "The suspect says they were in the basement, sir. He swears it. He seems like he's telling the truth."

Eying the open window, Riza grabbed her own radio and yelled into it, "Investigations Team! Did anyone leave this building?!"

"Campbell here. We've seen no one, ma'am," replied a man's voice, his tone urgent. "But we've lost contact with Jenkins. Ross and Brosh are heading to his position—stand by."

Without waiting for orders, Riza turned and sprinted back up the stairs. "Breda, secure this room and then go help Havoc!" Roy yelled as he ran after her.

-o-o-o-o-

In an alley several blocks away, the scarred man came to a stop and shifted the small girl in his arms. Limp with fear, she stared at him with wide eyes as he held her at arm's length, studying her. Her coloring was strange: unnaturally reddish-brown hair, dark brown eyes, pale skin. More insidiously, she had what appeared to be _feathers _emerging from the crown of her head and her tailbone—a telltale sign that she had been tampered with genetically. But from the familiar shape of her eyes and the structure of her cheekbones, he had no doubt that she was Ishvalan.

He felt himself tremble with rage. It had been a chance bit of intel wrung from the low-level State Alchemist he had assassinated last week, a lackey to Colonel Grand. The man had told him of an alchemical laboratory where a pair of children, including an Ishvalan child, were being experimented upon. Was it not enough that these Amestrian beasts had killed nearly all his people—but _this!_

In his arms the girl was recoiling from him; realizing that his anger was frightening her further, he forced himself to calm down. She was safe now, at least. The coincidence of the military raid had been inconvenient, but he had made it in and out in time. Now he would need to find some place to take her. He thought of the Ishvalan refugee camp outside of South City; but no, that was under tight supervision by the military, who would be looking for her. Her distinct appearance would make her stand out too much to be safe there.

His thoughts were distracted when the girl, finally swallowing her fear, began to kick and struggle in his arms. "Be still!" he ordered. "I will keep you safe—" But the girl was having none of it and kicked him hard in the stomach, catching him off guard. Her nimble form slipped from his grasp and she took off at a run, much faster than he expected for her size. "Wait!" he yelled after her as she disappeared around a corner, and he gave chase.

-o-o-o-o-

Back at the laboratory, Roy wiped sweat from his forehead, beside himself with frustration. Their search of the surrounding area had turned up no sign of the girls. Jenkins had been found alive but knocked out cold. Whoever had taken them had probably been long gone from the warehouse district before the team even started searching—which meant the girls could be anywhere by now.

As the team regrouped back inside the laboratory, Riza called the final status report into headquarters, her voice wooden. The radio crackled its reply: "Acknowledged. General Edison orders you to terminate the search and return to Central Command. An escort is being sent for the prisoner."

She let the hand holding the radio drop to her side. Her face was set in stone, but her eyes were filled with sorrow. "We were too late," she whispered, staring at the floor. "We lost them."

Roy uttered a curse, then turned and punched the wall next to him hard enough to dent the plaster. He breathed deeply for several moments, staring angrily into space. It had been their best hope, the only solid lead they'd had in three years. The two little girls were obviously nothing more than experiments to the evil men who held them; and now they were gone, somewhere out in the night where he couldn't find or protect them.

The other team members stood by uncertainly. After a long pause, Breda cleared his throat. "Orders, sir?" he asked gingerly. His voice snapped both officers out of their trances.

"Yes. Start packing up the files and evidence." Roy's voice was decisive, but held an undercurrent of sad resignation. He beckoned to Riza and began striding down the hall toward the room where Morishita was being held. "Lieutenant Hawkeye and I will continue interrogating the suspect."

-o-o-o-o-

By the time the scarred man caught up to the fleeing girl, they had crossed onto a commercial street lined with shops and restaurants, although most were closed at this hour and there were few people on the street. But as the girl darted through an alley behind one still lit-up restaurant, she turned a corner and collided with a man and woman walking toward their car, slipping and falling backward on the ground. Cursing silently, the scarred man ducked out of sight behind a dumpster before the couple caught sight of him. He would wait for her to start running again, then slip around the next building and follow.

But the couple was bending down to her. "Little girl, are you alright?" the woman gasped, tucking a strand of her short light-brown hair behind her ear as she leaned toward the girl. Either reassured by the woman's soothing tone or simply exhausted, the girl stayed where she was. No words came from her mouth, but she nodded gravely. "Honey, look, she's wearing next to nothing and she's soaking wet!" the woman exclaimed to her companion. "She must be freezing." The brown-haired man beside her was already taking off his coat and wrapping it around the girl.

"Do you have a name, sweetie?" he asked her. The girl looked at them blankly.

"Vincent—look at her head," the woman gasped anew. "Are those...feathers?" The adults' eyes met as a look of shock passed between them.

"Do you have a family?" the man asked the child carefully. "Somewhere you want to go back to?" But the girl only stared at the ground and shuddered. The man sat back on his heels and exhaled slowly. "Lavinia," he turned back to the woman, his eyes wide, "...do you remember that rumor you told me you heard at the hospital awhile back? About the military experiments?"

She nodded slowly. "From the drunk alchemist in the emergency room," she breathed. "He was babbling about animal-human DNA transfer. We all thought he was crazy, but afterwards the military sent people in to question everyone he'd talked to. They practically threatened us. We all pretended he hadn't said anything."

Vincent swallowed. "I'm getting the impression," he said quietly, "that your patient wasn't so crazy after all."

Behind the dumpster, the scarred man held his breath. He had no desire to kill civilians, but if these people intended to turn the girl in to the military, he would execute them on the spot.

"We can't let the military know about this little girl," the woman declared firmly. "She must have escaped from them. I've never trusted them to begin with, and now _this_..." The man was nodding in vigorous agreement. "She probably doesn't have anywhere to go," the woman continued. With sudden inspiration, she cocked an eyebrow at the man. "We've always wanted a child. I know the circumstances are strange, but...could we?"

The man paused thoughtfully, then pushed up his glasses, smiled and lifted the girl in his arms, propping her on his knee. "What do you think, sweetie? Would you like to come home with us?" Though still frightened, the girl nodded solemnly. "I think that settles it, Lavi. She looks like she needs us." The couple stood, the man still hugging the girl, and they resumed walking. The exhausted child let her eyes droop closed and laid her head on the man's shoulder.

From his hidden vantage point, the scarred man clenched his fists, breathing rapidly with anxiety. What should he do? This couple clearly intended to care for the girl and keep her hidden from the military. But they were Amestrians—how could he trust them to protect one of his people?! And yet what was the alternative: for him to kill these compassionate innocents? And then take the girl...where?

As they reached their car, the woman halted, putting her hand on the man's arm. "This means we can't tell anyone the real truth, OK? Even your brother. I know he's not like the rest of the military, but even he can't know. _No one_ must know." The man nodded soberly.

_If I'm going to intervene, I need to do it now, _thought the scarred man, his heart pounding. But as he watched the man gently lay the now-sleeping girl across the back seat of the car, and both adults tenderly place a hand on her head for a moment before closing her in, he stood rooted to his spot behind the dumpster. He could not kill these people. The child faced risks either way, and he could not bring himself to rip her away from people who were showing her such kindness. Even if they were Amestrians.

He continued watching as the car slowly pulled away from the parking lot and down the alley, its brake lights receding as it turned on the street. _Ishvala protect you, little girl,_ he prayed. _I hope this was the right choice. _

-o-o-o-o-

A mile away, Test Subject A stumbled into a park and collapsed onto her knees on the grass, breathing hard from the unfamiliar exertion of running. Silently she called out to her companion, _Can you hear me?_ But the answering voice in her head was nowhere to be heard. Her eyes filled with tears again. _I'm sorry,_ she said to the silence. _I shouldn't have run away and left you._

She shivered violently in the cold wind. Nearby, she saw an object being blown along the ground by the wind: a cardboard box, one big enough for her to fit in. She managed to stand and stagger the rest of the way to it. When she reached it she climbed inside, pulled it shut behind her and curled up on herself, still shivering but at least sheltered from the wind. In a few moments she was already beginning to drift into exhausted sleep.

But she gradually became aware of voices nearby, growing louder. "...telling you, I just saw a little girl in her underwear climb into this box." A man's voice. Holding her breath, she curled up tighter and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he wouldn't see her, wouldn't take her back—but the box opened and cold air flooded in, and she heard a gasp.

She opened her eyes and stared at a light-haired man who was staring back at her. Unlike the others, this one wasn't shouting or wearing blue. "Hey, little girl! Are you OK?" the man asked gently.

"Rick, what's happening? Is she all right?" came a woman's voice from somewhere behind him.

"She's not answering. I'm not sure she can talk," he replied over his shoulder, the turned back to the girl. "Why don't you come on out of there, OK? I promise we won't hurt you." He reached in, his hands warm as he took hold of her arms and gently began to draw her out. Frightened, the girl began to fight him, kicking and struggling like a cornered animal. "Raven, some help here!" he called.

The woman was at his side in an instant, pulling the box away and then unexpectedly taking the girl into a hug, gripping her gently but firmly until she tired of struggling. "It's OK!" the woman smiled down at her, her long dark hair hanging down from under a hat. "Please let us help you. Little girls don't belong in cardboard boxes. And you must be so cold." Wrapped in a soft coat, the woman felt warm against the girl's skin.

The man had taken off his own jacket. "Here," he held it out to the girl, "Why don't we put this on you? We'll take you to our house, get you something to eat, and try to figure out where you belong. OK?" Though the girl was still frightened, these people didn't seem to want to hurt her. And she was so cold and hungry. She nodded slowly. The man wrapped his coat around her, then lifted her into his arms. As he and the woman began to walk, the girl felt her eyelids begin to droop again from exhaustion.

Some of her hair had fallen over her face, and as they walked along the darkened sidewalk, the woman brushed it away and smoothed it down on her head. Then she paused, her eyes wide with surprise. "Rick," the woman said quietly. "Look at her ears." The girl could no longer keep her eyes open, but felt the man crane his neck, then abruptly stop walking.

"Didn't you tell me," she heard him asked the woman soberly, "about a rumor you once heard at the hospital?"

"Yes, I did," the woman answered thoughtfully. "I think...maybe this little girl should stay with us." They began walking again, and as the girl drifted off to sleep, the last thing she felt was a hat being gently placed over her head.


	2. What is Not Lost or Forgotten

Chapter 2 - What is Not Lost or Forgotten

_Eleven Years, Eight Months Ago_  
><em>Central City<em>

"Kayla sweetie, this way!" The little girl formerly known as Test Subject B looked up from the butterfly she was following to find her parents waiting for her ahead on the sidewalk. "Don't you want to get home and try on your new things?" Lavinia asked patiently, gesturing with the large paper shopping bags she carried in her hands. Kayla pointed in silent objection at the slowly receding butterfly. She wanted to keep looking at it—it was _purple!_—but she had no way of telling them that, which frustrated her greatly. It seemed that no one except her friend from the lab, now lost to her, would ever be able to hear her thoughts.

"There will be lots of other butterflies," Vincent chuckled and held out his hand to her. "But let's go home and get some lunch. I'm hungry!" Grateful that they had at least understood her gesture, Kayla took a last longing look at the butterfly as it drifted away, then ran to catch up to her parents, taking her father's hand. As they continued along the downtown street, she caught sight of the three of them reflected in a storefront window and smiled.

"Oh look, it's Raven!" her mother observed, indicating a woman with long black hair headed in their direction at the far end of the block. Beside her walked a man with light brown hair. "She works at the hospital with me. That's her husband, Rick."

Still studying their reflection as they walked, Kayla reached up to straighten the straw hat that sat atop her bright auburn hair, making sure it concealed the feathers on her head as she'd been taught. The yellow dress she wore was also long enough to hide her feathered tail. Clothes! she marveled, as she had a hundred times in the last few months. And parents! And a bed, and going outside, and all the food she wanted! It was more than she had ever dreamed of. Her only regret was that her friend wasn't there with her. _I hope you're safe too,_ she called out silently. She still spoke to her friend often, even knowing that she wasn't there to hear it.

"I haven't seen Raven in months," her mother was saying. "She's been on a leave of absence for some kind of family situation, I don't know what exactly. Let's go say hello."

_Are you here?_ Kayla froze in place as this time, a reply rang out in her mind. _Is it really you?! _

She frantically scanned the street around her._ I'm here!_ she called in silent response. _Where are you?! _She could feel her friend's presence now, she must be nearby—

"Hey Lavi, wait up," she vaguely heard her father say. "Kayla honey—what is it? What's wrong?"

There! Down the street, from behind the couple heading toward them, emerged a little girl in a long blue dress, with short brown hair partly covered by a hat. With silent shouts of joy, each girl took off running for the other. "Brooke!" the woman called in alarm after the brown-haired girl, who paid no heed. The girls ran toward each other until they collided in a hug in the middle of the block, with both sets of parents rushing to join them.

"Lavinia!" gasped the black-haired woman to Kayla's mother. "I…" She trailed off as two sets of parents took in the astonishing sight of their daughters, both conspicuously wearing long dresses and hats, who not only appeared to know each other but were apparently having a joyfully animated conversation_ without making a sound._

A long silence elapsed. "Hello, Raven," Lavinia finally breathed. "I think we need to talk."

-o-o-o-o-

Awhile later at a nearby playground, the four parents shared a pair of benches while their daughters played on the swingset, still apparently chattering away in what the adults perceived as eerie silence.

"…and after that, we figured our first priority was to keep her secret hidden," Lavinia was saying. "We've been telling everyone that her real parents died in the fire at the Greystone Projects—you remember that one from last year, when about twenty people died?" Raven and Rick nodded.

"We're saying that Kayla suffered burns on her head, which is why she wears the hat, and that chemicals from the burning carpet scarred her windpipe, so she can't talk," Vincent added.

"We know something about how the military works from Vincent's brother, so we figured our story had better be airtight, just in case," Lavinia continued. "So I used my position at the hospital to plant records that back us up. A birth certificate for her, death certificates for the parents, medical records for her injuries…" Raven was staring at her in astonishment, and she reddened. "I'm not saying I'm proud of any of this! But she's our little girl, and she's been through so much already. If I have to break a few laws to protect her, I will."

"I wasn't judging you!" Raven interjected hastily. "I wish I'd thought of all that, in fact. We haven't really told anyone anything. We've been keeping to ourselves since it happened, trying to figure out how to explain where Brooke came from."

Rick nodded in agreement. "In the meantime, I've been working on something to help her speak. A sort of automail collar." Now it was Lavinia and Vincent's turn to stare in surprise. "I'm an inventor," he explained, putting a hand behind his head shyly. "It doesn't bring in much money, but it really comes in handy sometimes."

"Maybe we can help each other," Vincent suggested thoughtfully. "If Lavi helps you plant some records for Brooke, can you make an automail collar for Kayla too?"

"Of course!" Rick answered. His eyes turned to the two little girls on the swingset, still silently talking and giggling. "One way or another," he observed, "it looks like we're all in this together." The other adults nodded in determined agreement.

-o-o-o-o-

The brown-haired girl pointed her toes and pumped her arms to make her swing rise higher. _What do your parents call you?_ she asked her companion. _I'm Brooke now._

_I'm Kayla._ The other girl copied her friend's movements and made her own swing rise to match. They nodded in approval at one another's new names.

Brooke turned to stare at the ground for a few long moments, her mood turning serious. _I'm sorry I ran away,_ she said sadly. _I shouldn't have left you._

_You dummy, I told you to run away! _Kayla countered with a roll of her eyes. _And I'm fine—nothing bad happened to me._

_I know,_ sighed Brooke. When she looked up, her eyes were wide and earnest. _But I won't ever do that again, OK? If anything like that ever happens again, I'll be brave, and stay and protect you._

_OK,_ Kayla nodded. _And I'll try to be brave and protect you too! But let's just hope we never have to._ Brooke smiled in agreement.

That settled, Kayla shot a mischievous look at her companion, then began pumping her arms and legs to make her swing rise even higher. With a grin, Brooke accepted the challenge and did likewise, until both girls were soaring high into the air and laughing.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>  
><em>Central City<em>

"This is so boring," complained Brooke, the automail collar around her neck giving her voice a metallic edge. The teenage girl lay sprawled out on her bed, on her stomach with her elbows propped up on the windowsill. Below her the late afternoon sun shone down on a quiet neighborhood street, while a pile of neglected textbooks lay strewn around her on the bed and floor. As she observed the scene, she absently ran her fingers through her short brown hair and stroked the wolf's ears on top of her head.

"Yeah," agreed Kayla in her own metallic voice. She sat cross-legged on the floor with a history textbook in her lap, her bright auburn hair hanging down nearly long enough to brush its pages. "But your mom says if we pass this last round of exams, we'll finally graduate. No more home schooling!" She held up the textbook. "So come on. Tell me about Xing."

"All right," Brooke sighed, abandoning the window and turning to stretch out on her back. "It's located on the other side of the Eastern Desert. It's been around for, um, about two thousand years, and they have a clan system ruled by an emperor. They practice a different kind of alchemy than we do, and claim that they had alchemy before anyone else, although nobody actually believes that."

"It sounds like the Xingese believe it," Kayla objected.

"I mean nobody in _Amestris _believes it," Brooke clarified with an impatient smirk. "Fine, smarty pants. Your turn." She hung her head and arms over the side of the bed and rooted around until she located her own history textbook, then picked it up and opened it to a random page. "Tell me about Ishval."

"OK. It's a region of Southeastern Amestris on the border of the Eastern Desert," Kayla laid aside her book and recited from memory. "They have their own ethnic group, but they fought a war of rebellion against Amestris awhile back, and nearly everybody died. That ended in 1899, the year we were born." She paused thoughtfully, then slid herself across the floor towards the bed until she was close enough to look at the textbook with her friend. "Hey," she asked, pointing to a photo of a group of Ishvalan people, "do you think I look Ishvalan?"

"What? Of course not. They all have red eyes and dark skin, and most of them have white hair."

"But look how their eyes are shaped, and their cheekbones..." She took the book and held it up next to her face so the other girl could compare the photo.

"Well, OK. Maybe," Brooke relented, squinting. "Does it matter?"

Kayla sighed. "I guess not," she conceded. "I mean, it makes me feel sadder about what happened to them in the war. But I suppose being Ishvalan is the least of my worries." She smoothed down the iridescent blue feathers on top of her head and frowned.

"What's wrong?" asked Brooke, frowning in response.

"Now that we're close to graduating, I've just been thinking," Kayla murmured. "...what are we going to do when we're older? We'll have to get jobs to support ourselves, and we're like this..." She gestured up at her feathers.

"Hmm." Brooke stared at the ceiling in thought. "Well, we could be nurses like our moms. They wear hats."

"Their uniform skirts are too short. Our tails would show."

"Fine. How about policewomen, then? They wear pants _and _hats. Then we could beat up criminals!" Brooke grinned wolfishly, miming a few punches into the air. Kayla shot her an exasperated look. "Anyway, why are you worried about this now?" Brooke continued more seriously. "We're only 15. We've got time."

"I know," Kayla continued frowning thoughtfully. "I just wish we didn't have to hide who we are all the time."

"Yeah," Brooke agreed somberly. "Even if we can't tell the world, it would be nice to at least have some friends." Kayla nodded.

A long silence passed between them. "All right," Kayla finally declared, her mood beginning to lift. "I suppose we won't get to be anything until we pass this test, so let's worry about that first." She closed the textbook she was holding and handed it back to Brooke with a smirk. "Your turn...tell me about ancient Xerxes."

-o-o-o-o-

"Hey there, Hawkeye!" Hughes called cheerfully a few hours later as he burst into the Central Command office where Roy and his team resided.

Riza turned from the cabinet she was facing, shifted a stack of files under one arm and saluted with the other. The room was otherwise empty of people. "Good evening, Lieutenant Colonel," she replied stiffly. Usually he got at least a polite smile out of her, but today she was all business, perhaps even a bit melancholy.

"You and Mustang working late together, huh?" he asked with a wink, trying to cheer her up.

Her bearing turned positively chilly. "The Colonel's in there," she remarked stonily, pointing to the door to the inner office where Roy kept his own desk. "Feel free to let yourself in." She turned her back on Hughes and sat down at her desk, making no further eye contact.

He sighed as he strode through the inner office door, closing it behind him and folding his arms over his chest. Roy, absorbed in reading a file, didn't bother looking up. "Hawkeye's still holding that grudge against you, huh?" Hughes asked. There was no reply. "Are you ever going to tell me what you did to make her so mad?"

"No." Roy's eyes were still fixed on his paperwork.

Hughes sighed theatrically. "Fine. Well, at least_ I_ had the sense not to let a good woman slip through my fingers," he opined, reaching into his lapel pocket. "Which reminds me, you haven't seen the latest pictures of Gracia and Elysia! We went to the park on Saturday—"

_"Hughes."_ Roy was looking up now, but instead of his usual lighthearted impatience, this time he was serious, frowning darkly. "Not today, OK?" He looked tired and grim, his eyes bloodshot.

"Sure," Hughes shrugged, replacing the photos in his pocket. "What's going on with you, Roy?" He pulled up a chair and took a seat across from his friend.

Roy sighed, then pushed a file across the desk toward Hughes. "This. You've heard of Shou Tucker, the State Alchemist?"

"Guy made a big splash a couple of years ago, right? Something to do with animal experimentation." Puzzled, Hughes picked up the file and began to leaf through it. Then his eyes went wide and he uttered a curse. "You're kidding me, right? His own _daughter?" _

Roy nodded soberly. "He turned her into a human chimera by combining her with the family dog," he echoed the file's contents sadly. "She was four years old. Tucker's in military custody, but the girl—or whatever she is now—is missing. We've got people combing the city." He slid a second file over to Hughes. "There are some similarities with this case from twelve years ago."

Still shaking his head in disbelief, Hughes began to flip through the second file. "The Morishita raid, huh? As I recall, he was suspected of trying to make human chimeras, but no proof was ever found." He hadn't been involved in that investigation himself, but word about it had gotten around. His heart sank further as he read the file. The missing test subjects were believed to have been even younger than Nina, about three years old—the same age as his Elysia. No wonder Roy hadn't wanted to look at her picture. "And you never found the girls? Or even figured out who they were?"

"No on both counts." Roy's mouth was set in a grim line, his hands balled into fists. "But there's a connection between the two cases—I'm certain of it."

Hughes blinked at the files before him, not wanting to believe that such monsters existed. But something else was nagging at him. "Wait a minute," he said thoughtfully. "I remember that the Morishita files went missing from Central Records a few years after the raid. There was a break-in, it was a big deal at the time. Where did you even get this?" He waved the folder in his hand.

Roy steepled his fingers, eyes glittering over a grim half-smile. "I had my team make a copy of everything we found at the lab before turning it over. We had suspicions that the military itself might have been behind the experiments, covertly. And now that a State Alchemist is involved in this new case, I'm even more convinced."

"Black ops, huh?" Hughes murmured. "A rogue element of the military?"

"If we're lucky," Roy grimaced. "Brigadier General Grand was awfully eager to take the Tucker chimera into custody for 'study.' The only reason he didn't is because Fullmetal caused a commotion and she got free." He met his friend's eyes earnestly. "There's a distinct possibility that _we're _the rogue element here, Hughes. We'll need to be very careful. But I could really use your help."

"Of course." Hughes began gathering up the files without hesitation. "Mind if I take these with me to start looking over? You look like you could use a break anyway. I can tell you're exhausted." Roy frowned, reluctant to let the files out of his sight, but after a few moments he rubbed his eyes and nodded wearily.

As they walked toward the door, Hughes tucked the files under one arm and clapped Roy on the shoulder. "Try to take your mind off it for a little while, OK?" he urged, back to his trademark cheerfulness. "Find yourself a nice woman and go out on a date. Or even better—" he grinned and inclined his head in the direction of the outer office, "—there's a beautiful woman right here in the next room! Go buy her some flowers, tell you're sorry for whatever it was you did, and take her out to dinner!"

Roy shook his head. He wore a smile, but it was a sad and halfhearted one. "Trust me, Hughes," he declared as he opened the door and ushered his friend out. "She'd tell me to go to hell."

-o-o-o-o-

Hughes took some time to look through the files at his desk before leaving the office for the evening. There was a lot of information to digest, but he was already thinking of leads he could follow, new investigation paths he could take. He pushed the files away and rubbed at his forehead; he would have nightmares about this for sure, especially with his daughter being the same age as the test subjects. Idly, he wondered if Elysia was too young to learn to use a gun for self-defense. She _was _exceptionally bright, he considered with a smirk.

With a glance up at the clock, he gathered up the files and set off for his car. There was one stop he needed to make before he headed home for the night.

His destination was a modest bungalow in a quiet, neatly manicured neighborhood. He parked the car and made his way up the paved stone walkway, approached the front door and knocked firmly. It was answered by a teenage girl with long, bright auburn hair under a blue knit beret, wearing an automail device on a collar around her neck.

Hughes held out his wallet, hanging open to display his military ID. "Military Investigations," he barked sternly. "I'm going to need to inspect these premises. I advise everyone here to cooperate fully."

The girl sighed and rolled her eyes. "Uncle Maes, you are _so _weird," she replied with a grin. Even through the collar's metallic speaker, he could hear the affection in her voice.

"Hey now," he protested with a grin of his own, pocketing his ID as she leaned in to give him a hug. "That's not what a man wants to hear from his favorite niece!" He returned her gesture with a bearhug squeeze.

"I'm your _only _niece, silly," Kayla countered with a laugh. "But even if you're my only uncle, you're definitely my favorite too." She invited him into the bungalow's living room with a wave.

The clink of pots and pans floated through the air from the kitchen. "Hi, Maes!" Lavinia's voice called unseen from around the corner. "Dinner's almost ready, but Gracia and Elysia are running a little late. Make yourself comfortable."

"Something to do with a potty-training accident," chimed in Brooke, appearing from the kitchen where she had been helping Lavinia. "We didn't ask for details."

Hughes sighed contently as he took a seat on the living room couch. "My darling Elysia is growing up _so _fast! You'll hardly recognize her. Here, let me show you the latest pictures!" He pulled a stack of photos from his lapel pocket, the ones Roy couldn't bring himself to look at earlier today. He began to flip through the pictures, enthusiastically narrating his account of their Saturday at the park as the girls looked on.

Though Hughes wore his usual cheerful grin, as he talked, a part of his mind kept returning to the thought of the little girls in the files, all three of whom were still out there somewhere. Turned into chimeras! The girls in the Morishita case would be just about Kayla and Brooke's age now, he mused, wherever and _whatever _they were now. He stole a glance at his niece and her friend, who were studying the pictures with a polite show of interest. Thank goodness nothing like that had ever happened to them, he thought with an inward shudder.


	3. Lost and Found

Chapter 3: Lost and Found

_Ten Years Ago  
>Central City<em>

Hidden away in the choir loft of an abandoned church, the Ishvalan man with the X-shaped scar on his face and no name sat surrounded by the stacks of documents he had stolen from the military the night before.

He leafed through the papers in his hands and scowled. He had taken a considerable risk breaking into Central Command to steal these files, records from the laboratory where he had rescued the little Ishvalan girl two years before. He had hoped to learn something of her identity, but there was nothing in them about who she was, only what had been done to her, and even that was coded in alchemic gibberish. The language of blasphemy.

Still scowling, he tossed the last of the documents aside and instead turned to stare out of the loft's leaded glass window, below which lay a neighborhood park where the Ishvalan girl and her Amestrian companion came regularly to play. Today they were engaged in a game of tag, with shrieks of slightly mechanized laughter emerging from their automail collars as their adoptive mothers looked on. He recognized the brown-haired Amestrian girl as the second child he had glimpsed in the laboratory, the one who had fled from him. It seemed that some thread of fate too complex for anyone but Ishvala to follow had brought the girls back together again. Despite their traumatic beginnings, both girls seemed to have adjusted to life with their new families, and seemed happy and reasonably healthy.

Frowning, he reminded himself that it no longer mattered who the Ishvalan girl had once been. Like him, she had left her name, family, and identity behind in the ashes of their homeland. And there were so few Ishvalans left that all those who remained were kin now. But he knew he would continue to try to find out who she was anyway, just as he would continue to watch over her in her new life, a self-appointed guardian of sorts. Perhaps, he thought, it was an attempt to reassure himself that he was more than just a killer.

But vengeance remained his primary mission, and now he descended the staircase from the loft, heading out the door and into the morning sunshine, ignoring the frenetic running and happy shrieks of the girls as he strode past the park. He had much work to do. There were many State Alchemists who needed to be punished for their crimes against the Ishvalan people, and he wouldn't rest until they were all—

—his thoughts were interrupted by the squealing of tires and the sight of the brown-haired girl dashing obliviously into the street just as a speeding car rounded the corner. In one swift motion he scooped her up, swung her round and deposited her safely on the sidewalk as the vehicle roared by. He kept going, disappearing around the corner himself as the girl stood rooted in shock and her distressed mother ran for her, calling her name.

The long-forgotten ghost of a smile touched the edges of the man's lips as he continued walking. No matter his own intentions, it seemed that Ishvala had appointed him as guardian to _both_ little girls.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Central City_

"Good morning, Lieutenant Colonel!" Lieutenant Ross saluted Hughes cheerfully, handing him a steaming cup of coffee as he entered the Investigations Department office. "I heard you got an early start today."

He rubbed his eyes tiredly and glanced at the clock; it was already mid-morning. "Yeah. They called a bunch of us in early for a briefing. Seems there's a serial killer who's targeting State Alchemists." Ross gasped in surprise, while Hughes took a swallow of the much-needed coffee. "They're calling him 'Scar' because he has a huge X-shaped scar on his face. They actually think he's been around for awhile—there've been a couple of unexplained alchemist deaths over the years—but he's started hitting higher-profile targets lately, and someone finally got a description. So it looks we've got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Yes, sir!" Ross responded. "Oh, and Lieutenant Hawkeye's here to see you!" she added just as he stepped into his inner office and found the blonde lieutenant waiting.

"Good morning, sir. Colonel Mustang sent me to retrieve the files he lent you last night," she said briskly.

He sighed and smiled apologetically. "Unfortunately, Lieutenant, with all the commotion last night and being rushed in early this morning for the briefing...I'm afraid I accidentally left my briefcase behind."

Hawkeye frowned. "If it's at your house, sir, I would be happy to go pick it up." Judging by her expression, _happy_ was a keen exaggeration.

He felt himself wince as he continued, one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "Well, actually…it's not at my house. You see, I went to dinner at my brother's house last night, and I left it there."

There was a long, glaring silence. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Riza said quietly in a voice that could have frozen ice, "may I impress upon you how _very important_ those case files are to our investigation? Not to mention confidential?"

"It'll be fine, Hawkeye," he hastened to assure her. "The briefcase is safe. It's locked, and even if it wasn't, my family would never touch the files. I'll go get it first thing after work." He swallowed, still smiling diplomatically.

"I will let Colonel Mustang know," she informed him tightly. She snapped her arm into a perfunctory salute, then spun on her heel and stomped out of his office. Hughes let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. The lieutenant's temper was legendary; but surely he had only imagined seeing her fingers twitch toward the gun at her waist...?

-o-o-o-o-

An hour later in Roy's office, a familiar teenage boy with long blond hair in a braid and a bright red coat was standing before his desk, fists clenched. "How can you expect me to just sit around and look at some stupid research notes when Nina is still out there?!" Ed shouted. Roy, long accustomed to the boy's tirades, sat coolly behind the desk with his elbows propped on its surface.

"Fullmetal, there are two platoons searching the city already, including most of my own team," he explained patiently. "Any soldier in the military can do that job. But _you_ are the only one who can decipher Tucker's notes. Those notes might be the key to returning her to normal, and to finding other victims that might be out there."

"And what good will that do Nina if the wrong part of the military finds her first?!" the boy challenged, his eyes glaring directly into Roy's. "Do you really think Brigadier General Grand will just let us—"

"_Keep your voice down," _Roy hissed with a warning look. The last thing they needed was to be overheard plotting against a senior officer. "You have your orders, Fullmetal! Either follow them, or resign your post and leave that here." He pointed toward the State Alchemist's silver pocketwatch at Ed's waist. "…And lose any chance you might have had at helping Nina once we find her," he added tersely.

Scowling darkly, Ed reached for the watch, and for a moment Roy thought he really might pull it from his waist and throw it on the desk. But after a pause, the boy's gloved hand fell to his side. "Fine, Colonel Bastard," he snarled. "But your team had damned well better be the ones to find her!" With fists still clenched, the boy turned and stalked out of Roy's office. "Come on, Al," he growled to his brother, whose large armored form waited awkwardly in the outer office.

"Brother, don't you think you're being a little hard on the Colonel?" the younger brother's metallic voice faded out as they exited the office. Ed made sure to slam the door behind them for emphasis.

"He's right, you know," observed Hawkeye, who had been quietly filing papers in a corner of Roy's office. Her voice was sober. "If Grand's people find the girl first, they'll never let us near her."

"I'm aware of that, Lieutenant," he countered. "But the same is true of Tucker's research. It's just a matter of time before he confiscates that too, and the information it holds could be critical." He ran his fingers through his black hair, sighing. They were running out of time on both fronts, and even if they managed to beat Grand at every turn, there was still no guarantee that they would find a way to help the girl. _What we really need is a miracle,_ Roy thought despondently_._

-o-o-o-o-

Some hours later, Brooke yawned, letting the textbook in her lap fall closed as she stretched her arms over her head. "Oh hey, the sun's going down," she murmured, gesturing toward the window.

"Is it that late already?" Kayla looked up in surprise. Both girls were sprawled out on Brooke's bed, where they had been deep in their studying all afternoon. "Guess I'd better get home." She yawned likewise, then got up, gathered up her books, and slipped on her jacket.

"See you tomorrow," waved Brooke. "And don't forget this!" She tossed Kayla her hat, nearly forgotten atop one of the bedposts.

"Yikes, that would have been bad!" Kayla laughed as she fixed it over her feathers. With a wave, she headed down the stairs. "Good night, Mrs. Armstrong," she called to Raven in the kitchen on her way out.

"Good night, dear. Get a good night's sleep for your test tomorrow!" the older woman called back.

Kayla headed out into the dusk and began the long walk home. The weather was nice tonight, balmy with a cool breeze as she threaded her way through the quiet neighborhood streets. Her parents were out to dinner with friends and would be home late, so she took a detour and stopped by a convenience store to pick up dinner for herself. Ten minutes later she was on her way again with a ham sandwich and a bottle of sweet tea in a paper bag. It had grown dark in earnest now, so she quickened her pace.

But as she passed by the next alley, her attention was caught by a muffled whimpering sound. She stopped in her tracks—was that a child crying? Or a hurt animal? "Hello..." she called tentatively. "Is somebody there? Are you OK?" The whimpering ceased abruptly, and there were quick shuffling sounds and a muffled bang against a metal garbage can, as if someone were trying to hide. "Hey, um, I won't hurt you!" Kayla continued, not sure who or what she was even talking to as she squinted into the dark alley. "Why don't you come on out?"

After a long pause, there was more shuffling, and a large, lumbering shape emerged cautiously from within the alley. She saw now that it was a dog—an enormous, sad-looking one. And strange-looking too: it had tawny fur all over except for its head, which was covered in long brown hair like a lion's mane. Its eyes looked up at her with surprising intelligence, more like human eyes than a dog's. "See, it's all right, doggy," Kayla crooned, holding out her hand for it to sniff. "I'm friendly. Are you lost?" It made a low keening sound, and she tentatively reached out to stroke its head.

"Help," the dog said.

Kayla froze in place, her hand halfway to the dog's head. "Did you just...talk?" she gasped. That was impossible. Dogs didn't talk!

"Help," the dog repeated in a low, drawling voice. "I'm lost." Then, like any ordinary dog looking for attention, it shuffled closer and headbutted her outstretched hand—and Kayla felt a shock of energy rip through her, stinging painfully as she was engulfed in a blinding purple light.

She came back to her senses to find herself sitting in a heap on the sidewalk. Her body felt sluggish, as if she'd somehow been drained of energy. With effort she pulled her head upright to look at the dog—

She was being stared at by a completely ordinary dog, with tawny fur, no mane and utterly dog-like eyes, which panted happily and gave her a friendly little woof. Next to the dog sat a little girl of maybe four years old, with long brown hair and not a scrap of clothing.

"Help," said the little girl, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm lost."

Kayla slowly climbed to her feet, staring at the girl and dog. She was not normally one for swearing, but there were some occasions that just called for it. "What,"she demanded loudly of no one in particular, "the _HELL_ just happened?!"

-o-o-o-o-

His long workday finally over, Hughes headed out the eastern door of Central Command. _Don't forget the briefcase!_ he reminded himself. _Otherwise Hawkeye really might—uh oh._ Directly in front of him, parked by the curb next to the door, he spotted Roy's car, and Roy himself standing propped against it with his arms folded, glowering. Hawkeye stood rigidly next to him, her hands folded neatly behind her back, also glowering. Hughes mentally gulped as he tried to decide which of them looked scarier.

"Get in," Roy ordered gruffly as he opened the back door and pointed into the car. "We're taking you to your brother's." He slid into the backseat without another word, leaving Hughes to sigh and climb in beside him, with Hawkeye slamming the door shut behind them before taking the driver's seat.

"All right, I know I messed up," Hughes apologized. "I'm sorry I forgot the files. And now I won't even have as much time to help you with the Tucker case, since Command ordered us to drop everything and focus on this Scar person. But I've got some ideas, and I'll still do whatever I can to help. OK?"

There was no response, but neither of them was glaring or lecturing him, which Hughes took as a sign that he was forgiven. He took a deep breath and plunged on. "Anyway, it's great that you're coming to my brother's! You'll finally have a chance to meet the rest of my family. I have a beautiful sister-in-law, and an adorable, brilliant niece—she's definitely a Hughes girl even though she's adopted. Let me tell you all about them!" He continued on at length, enumerating his relatives' many virtues while discreetly ignoring the fact that Hawkeye was grimacing and Mustang was rubbing his forehead as if in pain.

-o-o-o-o-

The phone was ringing as Kayla staggered through the doorway of the darkened house with the little girl riding on her back, wrapped in her jacket. "OK, I'm putting you down now," she said as she maneuvered the girl down to the kitchen floor, narrowly avoiding a collision with the dog as it bounded past them. "I'm _coming,"_ Kayla muttered to the phone as it continued ringing insistently.

It was Brooke. "Did you feel something really weird?!" her friend exclaimed as soon as she answered. "Are you OK? Did something happen?"

"Yes, something really bizarre happened!" Kayla twirled her long auburn hair around her fingers anxiously. The little girl was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, looking dazed and hugging the dog, which was panting in happy obliviousness. "I'm OK. Everybody's OK. But you seriously need to come over right now!"

"Why, what happened?!"

"Just come over!"

"I'm on my way." Brooke hung up the phone without any further questions.

-o-o-o-o-

Lavinia and Vincent arrived home several minutes later. By then the girl was sitting at the kitchen table dressed in an oversized pair of Kayla's old pajamas and quietly devouring the ham sandwich. Kayla quickly and tersely filled in her parents on the strange events, then coaxed the girl into repeating the few pieces of information she had able to glean.

"What's your name?"

"Nina Tucker." The little girl's voice was small and anxious.

"Do you know what happened to you?"

"I was in Alexander." She pointed to the dog.

"Like, inside?" Kayla prompted. Nina nodded. "Do you know how you ended up…inside your dog?"

"My daddy put me there. With alchemy," the girl replied, her voice growing even smaller. Lavinia gasped and Vincent muttered a curse under his breath.

Kayla took a deep breath and continued. "Nina, who's your dad? What does he do?"

"He's a State Alchemist," she replied, drawing out the syllables carefully.

A dreadful silence descended over the family. After a few moments, Vincent broke the silence. "It's happening again," he muttered angrily. "And her own _father!"_

Lavinia was shaking her head. "This is bad," she murmured. "The military will be looking for her, Vince. We can't let them find Kayla!"

Vincent's mouth was pursed in a grim line. "But we can't turn this girl away, either." His eyes met Lavinia's. "We've done this before—we know what to do. We'll just have to keep her hidden until they stop looking."

"Really? She can stay here?" interjected Kayla hopefully. "And the dog too?"

Lavinia sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, then nodded. "All right—I don't see that we have a choice. Let's keep this little girl safe. And the dog too." She smiled at Kayla. "You've hinted a few times that you wanted a little brother or sister, right? I think the military just gave you one."

Kayla grinned, then turned back toward the kitchen table. "What do you think, Nina? Do you and Alexander want to stay with us from now on?" Swallowing the last bite of her sandwich, the little girl slowly broke into a smile.

-o-o-o-o-

"...There's just one thing, though," Hughes reluctantly concluded his monologue as Hawkeye pulled up to his brother's house and parked the car. "My niece has some injuries she got when she was a child. She always wears a hat, and uses an automail device to help her speak. So just promise me you won't stare, OK? She's a little shy."

Mustang rolled his eyes and sighed. "Hughes, we see automail every day. And stranger things than that. We're not idiots." Hawkeye got out and circled around to open the back door of the car for them, closing it again after they exited. The trio of officers walked up the paved pathway to the front door.

-o-o-o-o-

The slam of the car door alerted the family inside the house. "Oh, _crap!"_ muttered Lavinia as she stared in alarm through the window. "I forgot that Maes was coming by for his briefcase—and he brought two other military people with him!"

"Kayla, get Nina and the dog upstairs and keep them quiet!" Vincent ordered frantically.

Kayla quickly scooped up Nina, whose eyes went wide with sudden fear. "It's OK. We're playing hide-and-seek. Come on, Alexander!" The older girl hustled them up the stairs and into her bedroom, closing the door just as the doorbell rang.

"Maes! Nice to see you again so soon," Vincent greeted his brother jovially. "And I see you brought some colleagues?"

"I've got your things right here!" Lavinia interjected as she appeared from the kitchen lugging the briefcase.

"Sorry to trouble you." Maes collected the briefcase with visible relief and a bit of embarrassment. "Ah, these are my friends, Colonel Mustang and Lieutenant Hawkeye." He indicated the black-haired male and blonde female officers, who were polite but stiff. "And where's my adorable niece? I've been bragging about her, and I wanted them to meet her!" Hughes continued cheerfully.

"I'm afraid she went to her friend's house—" Lavinia began, but was interrupted by the muffled sound of a dog barking from upstairs.

"Huh? When did you get a dog?" Hughes asked, confused. The barking abruptly grew louder as an upstairs door banged open. Above their heads there was the sound of frantic scrambling and running, then all at once the staircase in front of them burst forth with a bounding tawny dog, a small brown-haired girl in oversized pajamas tumbling after him, and behind them Kayla wearing an utterly mortified expression.

All three of them stopped short at the sight of the officers. "I'm sorry!" Kayla gasped, wheeling from the strangers to her terrified parents and back again. "Um, I can explain!"

But neither the strange officers nor her uncle were paying a bit of attention to Kayla. They were all staring in shock at the little girl and her dog.

"Is that…" began the blonde woman.

"Nina Tucker," finished the black-haired man, his voice filled with wonder. "But _how…?!"_

-o-o-o-o-

"OK, tell us one more time, Kayla," Hughes repeated gently. "You're sure you found Nina and Alexander just like this? Wandering around on their own?" His hand waved to indicate the little girl and dog, who were playing quietly in a corner of the living room.

Sitting on the sofa with all the adults standing around watching her, Kayla nodded, her hands unconsciously fidgeting with a throw pillow on her lap. "Yes, by the convenience store on 2nd Street. In an alley. I heard a little girl crying, and she was all alone except for her dog, so I brought her home." Kayla swallowed before continuing. "She said that her dad did something to hurt her, so I thought I should hide her in case he was looking for her." Her eyes flickered earnestly toward her parents. "I didn't even tell my Mom and Dad." Neither Lavinia nor Vincent contradicted her, their faces filled with veiled gratitude; being caught lying to the military could have gotten the adults arrested.

"And there was nothing strange about Nina and Alexander, other than the fact that they were alone?" Hughes prompted.

"I don't think so," Kayla shrugged. She hated the fact that she was lying to her uncle, but she didn't dare tell the whole truth since she suspected it had something to do with her own secret history as a military test subject.

But the blonde lieutenant was eyeing her keenly, frowning. "Kayla," she said calmly. "I still don't think you're telling us everything you saw tonight. You aren't in any trouble, we just need to know _exactly_ what happened." Her eyes bored into Kayla's, and the teenage girl swallowed nervously. "So why don't you be honest, and tell us the rest."

Kayla felt like she was under a microscope. It was too much; she couldn't take that woman's gaze. "All right!" she confessed, her voice cracking as she hid her face. "There _is _more. I was just afraid to tell you." From the corner of her eye she saw Vincent and Lavinia hold their breath. "When I found Nina…" Kayla continued in a small voice, "...she was naked." She looked back up at her uncle pleadingly. "I think her dad was one of those sickos like you read about in the newspaper. Please, Uncle Maes, _please_ promise me you won't take her back to him!"

Hughes let out his breath and stepped back. "Oh, geez," he mumbled. His eyes met those of the other two soldiers, who both grimaced; Kayla knew then that her admission had convinced them. After a moment Hughes turned back to Kayla, knelt down and put a hand on her shoulder. "All right, listen kiddo. Nina's father was a bad man. Not the way you're thinking, but very bad. He's in jail, and he will _never_ be allowed to go near her again. OK?" Kayla nodded, sighing with relief. Hughes stood back up. "All right, give us a few minutes to talk this over."

As the three soldiers withdrew to the hallway for a murmured conversation, Lavinia went to Nina and put her arms around the small girl, while Vincent sat down and gave Kayla a quick hug. "You did good," he whispered.

Snatches of conversation were drifting in from the hallway. "This one's up to you, Roy," Hughes said to the black-haired colonel. "What do we do?"

The man was gazing into the living room at Nina and Alexander. "The military is looking for a chimera," he replied. "But all I see is a girl and a dog." Hughes and the lieutenant nodded in agreement, and all three returned to the living room.

"Vincent, Lavinia...are you willing to take responsibility for this girl?" Hughes asked gently. "It would be classified, so you wouldn't be able to tell anyone. Even other people in the military."

"Yes," Lavinia answered without hesitation.

"Of course, Maes," Vincent agreed. "She'll be safe here with us."

For the first time, the serious expressions on all three officers relaxed and gave way to smiles. "Then it's settled," the black-haired man declared. "I can't think of anyone's family I'd trust more." He turned to Hughes. "You'll help keep an eye on things here?"

"Definitely," Hughes responded with a grin. "I'll check in tomorrow. But for now, I guess we should get out of your way," he added to the parents. "And _thank you, _sincerely. From all of us." He made sure to retrieve his briefcase as the soldiers said their goodbyes and departed, leaving the family alone and relieved.

-o-o-o-o-

"Why does it matter how it happened, Roy?" Hughes was insisting as they got back into the car. "The little girl is OK. End of story."

"It's not even close to the end of the story, Hughes," Roy sighed. "We need to figure out _why_ she's OK. If there are other chimeras out there, we need to know how to save them."

As the men continued to debate in the back seat, Hawkeye started up the car and began to pull away, then abruptly took her foot off the accelerator. Her attention had been caught by a figure walking briskly up to the front door of the house—another adolescent girl, this one with short brown hair. She wore a hat like Kayla, and the reflection from the porchlight glinted off an automail collar around her neck. "Who's that girl?" Hawkeye demanded of Hughes. "Why does she have the same injuries as Kayla?"

"Hmm? Oh, that's Brooke, Kayla's best friend. They were both injured in a fire when they were younger. They were in the same room when it happened." Hughes returned his attention to Roy. "What are you going to tell the Elric boys? They'll want to see Nina."

"Let me think about that one. We need to keep this quiet, and they aren't exactly discreet," Roy replied.

Ignoring the men's conversation, Hawkeye squinted curiously at the girl until she disappeared inside the house. Only then did she reluctantly put the car into gear and pull away.


	4. New Beginnings

Chapter 4: New Beginnings  
><span>

_Twelve Years Ago_  
><em>Central City Warehouse District<em>  
><em>Raid on Morishita's Laboratory<em>

Dr. Morishita's face made the abrupt acquaintance of the surface of a laboratory worktable, and was held firmly in place by a gloved hand gripping the back of his neck and the barrel of a revolver pressed against his forehead.

"I strongly suggest you start talking, Doctor," growled Roy, the owner of the hand. "Tell us where the girls are!"

"Like I told the other soldier, they were in the basement!" whined the alchemist. The right half of his face was scrunched against the lab table, propping his thick glasses askew. "I don't know where they are now." He sounded generally distressed at the loss of his test subjects.

"We know someone took them. Who are you working with? Where would they have gone?!" demanded Riza, the owner of the gun. She cocked it for emphasis, causing Morishita to flinch at the sound.

"There's no one here but me!" he insisted. "They may have gotten out on their own. They're normally secured, but then you people barged in here and ruined everything—" He gulped as the pressure from the hand on his neck and the gun to his head became more forceful.

"'Secured!'" spat Riza. Her voice held icy menace. "What exactly did you do to those children, _Doctor?"_

"I didn't harm them," he countered stubbornly. "Quite the opposite, in fact. I made them stronger, smarter. Gave them all sorts of wonderful abilities." Despite his predicament, the man was grinning with perverse pride. "If you let me up, I'll show you."

Above his head, Roy and Riza's eyes met. Morishita was clearly insane, and neither wanted to trust him, but they needed any information he could give them. "I promise to behave," the man added plaintively. "I can't do anything like this, after all." He gestured with his hands, bound at the wrist with handcuffs inscribed with transmutation circles that would negate any alchemy he might try to perform.

Riza nodded in agreement to Roy, and he let the man up slowly, keeping one hand poised to snap flame at him if he tried anything, while she kept her gun trained at his head. Morishita straightened his white lab coat and adjusted his glasses, then took a few steps across the room and pressed one bound hand against a recess in the wall. With a click, a section of the wall swung open, revealing a hidden room full of cages containing animals of all shapes and sizes.

"You see," purred the alchemist. "All of nature—and more—lies under the command of alchemy. These creatures have strength and senses far beyond those of mere humans. From these animals came the abilities I gave my test subjects." He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose as he flashed a leering grin. "Don't you see? I gave them _wonderful _gifts!"

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>  
><em>Central City Residential District<em>

"Alexander, fetch!" Nina called, throwing a red rubber ball to her dog. Alexander, somewhat hazy on the concept of fetching, picked up the ball in his mouth and joyfully bolted in the opposite direction from the four-year-old girl, who chased after him across the backyard, giggling.

"He has her well-trained," Kayla observed from her seat on the back step, taking a sip from her mug of tea.

"So cute…" murmured Brooke over her own mug, sitting next to Kayla on the step. "I wish _I_ had an adorable little sister. She even came with her own dog!"

"That's not a dog, that is a bulldozer with four legs," Kayla griped good-naturedly. "The only reason he hasn't tried to run you over is because he's afraid of you, Miss Big Bad Wolf," she added with a mischievous smirk.

"What? That can't be right! Hey Alexander, come here!" Brooke protested, motioning for the dog to approach. Alexander froze and stared at her with eyes wide in fear, then gave a submissive "yip" and retreated to the other side of the yard. "Oh, how embarrassing," she muttered.

"At least your animal side is something cool. Nobody's intimidated by birds," Kayla sighed. She paused, noticing that Nina had stopped chasing Alexander and was standing in front of the older girls, staring curiously. "What is it, Nina?"

She broke into a shy smile. "Um, why do you both have…" She trailed off and pointed toward her neck.

"Our automail collars?" asked Brooke. The young girl nodded. "They help us make sounds when we talk. Otherwise no one would be able to hear us."

"Watch this," added Kayla, unfastening her collar. She continued speaking, her lips moving normally but no sound coming out: _Now you can't hear me, see?_

Nina cocked her head at Kayla, her expression confused. "I can still hear you," she countered.

Kayla and Brooke's eyes met in surprise. "Wait a minute…" said Brooke. _If we talk like this, you can hear us? _she finished the sentence silently, which normally only Kayla would be able to hear. Nina nodded slowly, pointing at her head.

The older girls broke into delighted grins. "She's just like us! This proves that we're connected somehow!" Kayla declared excitedly. "Hey Nina, can you try to talk to us that way? Think of something you want us to hear, but don't say it out loud. OK?"

The little girl nodded again. Several moments of unbroken silence elapsed. "Keep trying," encouraged Brooke. "It probably takes practice."

Nina's small brow furled in concentration as another minute went by. Finally, both older girls heard a tiny voice in their heads: _Will you play with me?_

"Yay!" Kayla and Brooke cheered together and gave the little girl hugs. _I mean, yay!_ Brooke added silently with a laugh.

_We don't have time to play right now because we have a test today, but we'll play later, OK?_ added Kayla. _And oh! It has to be a secret that we can talk this way. Mom and Dad can know, but nobody else, got it?_

Nina nodded with a grin. _OK! I'll play with Alexander until later. _She bounded off to rejoin her dog in the middle of the yard, retrieved the rubber ball, and threw it to him. _Fetch, Alexander!_

"I don't think he can hear you like that," Brooke laughed.

But the four-year-old was off in her own world, chattering nonstop as she ran around the yard after her dog. _This is fun! I like to play! Alexander is so cute! Let's all play later! _She segued into a nonsensical nursery rhyme, the silent words ringing loudly inside their heads.

As the song continued on and on, Kayla rubbed her forehead. "OK, I'm starting to think this may not have been the greatest idea," she observed to Brooke, who nodded regretfully.

-o-o-o-o-

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, the four parents were having a meeting over coffee.

"I did everything I could to find an exemption, but I don't see any way around it," sighed Raven. "It applies to all home-schooled children. They won't be able to graduate unless they complete a 40-hour internship with the military—period."

"Surely there's a religious exception or something," Vincent countered. "Can we say we're pacifists?" But Raven was shaking her head.

"Even if we could, that would put us on the military's radar," Lavinia pointed out. "We could find ourselves under suspicion for anti-government activities, which would be even worse."

Raven ran her fingers through her long black hair. "The girls are going to have to do this, one way or another. Our best bet is to try to find them an assignment that keeps them out of Central Command and exposes them to as few soldiers as possible. That will minimize the chance of someone figuring out who they are."

"Well, both of our families have relatives in the military," Vincent acknowledged. "We can try to work something out with Maes, but I'm not sure what to tell him. Rick, is there a chance your brother could help us instead?"

Rick frowned. "That might not be a good idea. Command has never really trusted him since Ishval, and they keep him on a tight leash. If he tries to intervene on the girls' behalf it might attract more attention, not less."

Lavinia scowled. "It's disgraceful. To be treated like that just because he refused to kill civilians!" The other adults nodded gravely.

A long, discouraged silence elapsed. "I guess it's down to Maes, then," Vincent sighed. "We'll just have to talk him into it."

-o-o-o-o-

Back at Central Command, a folder full of papers landed on Roy's desk with a thump. Above the desk stood a scowling Edward, arms folded over his chest. "There's our translation of Tucker's research notes, Bastard. Can we go look for Nina now?" Next to Ed stood the armored form of his younger brother Al, his smile embarrassed yet hopeful.

"Not so fast," Roy replied, picking up the folder and sighing as its haphazardly stacked papers spilled out. "First give me a verbal report of what you found."

Ed rolled his eyes, his scowl deepening. _"F__ine._ He talks about three different kinds of alchemy: There's the regular kind like we use in Amestris. There's alkahestry, which is what they use in Xing, mostly for healing the human body. Then there's something called azothestry, which is all about capturing the power of animals. It's a lost art from ancient Xerxes that Tucker was trying to resurrect, and that's what most of his notes are about."

"OK," Roy nodded. "Go on."

Ed sighed, beginning to relax as he continued talking; despite his impatience he had found the research genuinely interesting. "Well, he mentions the Philosopher's Stone in passing—he calls it the pinnacle of regular alchemy, like you'd expect. But he spends most of his time talking about 'Animal Stones,' which are the pinnacle of azothestry. He thinks they could be even _more_ powerful than the Philosopher's Stone if they could be harnessed."

Al chimed in, "We're not sure whether this next part is meant to be taken literally, or if it's some kind of symbolic code. He says that the Animal Stones aren't actual stones, but living animals that appear in our world once every 100 years. There are four of them: a dragon, a fenris wolf, a blue phoenix and a gold phoenix. He also calls them Guardian Animals."

Roy considered the boys' words. "And Tucker was working on capturing the power of these animals?"

Ed nodded. "Yeah, that's what it sounds like. There's a lot of information about how to use this azothestry stuff to create chimeras." His face collapsed in a frown. "But nothing about how to return one to being a normal human."

"That doesn't surprise me." Roy stared down at the papers in his hands, his expression dark. "I was hoping there would be something new here. But everything you've told me is almost identical to a case my team worked on twelve years ago."

"Wait a minute!" Ed protested. "Are you telling me that you knew all this stuff already? We wasted all that time for nothing when we should have been out looking for Nina?!" The teenager was gritting his teeth, his hands balled into fists.

Roy was holding up his hand. "Calm down, Fullmetal. You haven't heard _my_ report yet." He propped his elbows on the desk and sat back, breaking into a smile. "Nina's been found, and she's fine. We're not sure how, but she's no longer a chimera."

"WHAT?!" both brothers exclaimed, their words tumbling over one another in their excitement. "Where is she?!" "Who found her?" "Does Grand know?" "How could that happen?!" "You're _sure_ she's fine?" "When can we see her?!"

"Stop, both of you! One at a time. And keep your voices down." The boys quieted, staring at Roy expectantly. "Nina and her dog were found by a civilian—they were already separated at that point, apparently," Roy continued. "The civilian's family has agreed to take care of her and keep her hidden. Grand and the rest of the military don't know, and we're going to keep it that way. That means no visitors, not even you two—I _mean_ it, Fullmetal," he cut off the boy's protests before they began again. "For her protection and the family's. That's an order. Got it?"

"We understand, Colonel," Al interjected. "Don't we, Brother?" he elbowed Ed gently in the ribs and gave him a meaningful look.

Ed was clearly livid. "I guess you're not giving us a choice," he scowled at Roy, "_and_ you're telling us we have to take your word that she's OK." Then he slammed his hands down on the desk as he leaned forward, staring angrily. "Wait a minute—why the hell didn't you tell us the news about Nina first?!"

"Because if I had, I never would have gotten your report," Roy answered, wearing the placid smirk of an untroubled conscience. Behind the boys, Riza appeared at his office door. "What is it, Lieutenant?" he inquired, cutting off Ed's next rant.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes is here to see you," she answered crisply.

"Excellent. You boys are dismissed." Roy began to stack the papers neatly and replace them in their folder, paying Ed and Al no further attention.

"Wait a minute! We're not done here—" Ed protested, not moving.

"Come _on,_ Brother," Al pulled at Ed's arm to get him to leave, flashing him another meaningful look. Only then did Ed reluctantly allow himself to be ushered out, still scowling at Roy.

"Hey there, boys!" Hughes greeted Ed and Al cheerfully as they passed one another in the outer office. Al returned the greeting while Ed silently fumed behind crossed arms, watching as Hughes disappeared into Roy's office with Riza following and closing the door behind them.

-o-o-o-o-

"You see Brother, this is much easier than trying to argue with the Colonel," Al whispered to Ed a few minutes later. Ed grinned in approval. Both boys had their heads cocked toward a hastily-transmuted megaphone attached to a pipe in the floor of the supply closet they occupied, which led into the ceiling of Roy's office one floor below. The adults' voices were slightly muffled, but the brothers were able to hear them clearly enough.

"—told me she's adjusting just fine," Hughes was saying. "But they could use a few things, like we talked about."

"I've already picked up some clothes and shoes that should fit her," Hawkeye replied. "And a few other items that might be useful. A hairbrush, some books, a couple of dolls…is something funny, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?"

"I just never pictured you as the maternal type, Hawkeye. Your instincts are being wasted in the military! You really ought to find yourself a husband, start a family—"

"_Hughes,"_ Roy cut him off abruptly. "That's enough. The Lieutenant will give you the clothes and other items to take with you. If there's nothing else…?"

"Fine, fine," Hughes conceded cheerfully. "I'll stop by my brother's tonight and give you a report on Nina in the morning." There was the sound of a door opening. "Oh Lieutenant, I don't suppose you happened to pick up any dog food…" The voices dwindled out of the boys' hearing range.

Ed clapped his hands, and with a glow of blue light, the megaphone melted into the floor. "Hughes is going to see Nina tonight, Al!" he declared excitedly. "And we're going with him." Al nodded determinedly.

-o-o-o-o-

The sun was setting as Hughes pulled his car away from Central Command and onto the road. He hummed absently to himself as he drove, a box full of children's clothes and toys on the passenger seat beside him. A smile crossed his lips as he pictured the usually stern and humorless Hawkeye shopping for little girls' dresses. She definitely had a soft side, no matter what Roy thought. If his friend had any sense he would definitely—

His thoughts were interrupted as he drove over a bump in the road and the bottom of the car scraped noisily against it. It had been driving oddly ever since he'd left work, feeling strangely weighted down. Maybe the suspension needed to be fixed; frowning, he made a mental note to get it checked over the weekend as he pulled up to his brother's house and parked the car.

He was halfway up the front walkway when, from behind him, he heard the noisy slam of his car's trunk opening followed by a clanking noise that sounded suspiciously like Alphonse Elric's armor. "Oh no," he murmured as he froze in place. "Please tell me this isn't what I think it is." Slowly, he turned around to face the scene.

Sure enough, before him stood the Elric brothers, Al standing with his hands clasped apologetically while Ed nonchalantly brushed off the sleeves of his red coat. "Hey, Hughes!" Ed barked, folding his arms over his chest. "We're here to see Nina, and we're _not_ taking no for an answer!"

Hughes' shoulders slumped in anticipation of the hell Roy was going to give him for this tomorrow, and he let out a long sigh. "All right, I guess what's done is done," he grumbled. He turned and resumed walking up the walkway, motioning for the boys to follow. "You two might as well come on in. I'll introduce you to my brother's family."

-o-o-o-o-

"BIG BROTHERS!" Nina squealed as soon she saw Ed and Al, and took off in a run toward them. Undecided who to hug first, she attempted to throw her small arms around both of them at once, an effort made even more comically impossible due to Al's size. Her dilemma was solved when Alexander bounded joyfully after them and plowed Ed to the ground, at which point Al scooped the little girl up and planted her on his shoulders as she giggled loudly.

By now Ed had managed to sit up and was scratching the dog's head affectionately. "You stupid mutt, I'm even glad to see _you_ right now," the boy chuckled, fighting back tears of relief and happiness. He'd done plenty of crying over what had happened to Nina, but he didn't want to lose his composure in front of this houseful of strangers. Who were all, he realized suddenly, staring in bewilderment at the bizarre spectacle the brothers were creating. Ed felt his face redden as he quickly pushed himself up from the floor.

"I've got to hand it to you boys, you know how to make an entrance," Hughes observed drily. He quickly introduced them to the house's occupants: Hughes' brother Vincent, whom Ed noted bore an uncanny resemblance to Hughes himself; Vincent's wife Lavinia; their teenage daughter Kayla; and Kayla's friend Brooke.

The two older girls were studying the boys with shy curiosity. "Nina told us about her 'big brothers,'" volunteered Kayla, a slim girl with bright auburn hair wearing a sweater and a long flowered skirt. Her voice had a subtle metallic edge; Ed noted that both she and Brooke wore automail speaking devices of some sort. "But she didn't seem to know who you two were exactly, and based on her description…" Kayla trailed off as her eyes flickered toward Al's armored bulk, her cheeks turning slightly pink.

"We thought you were imaginary friends," Brooke concluded with a smirk. She was a few inches taller than Kayla, with broader shoulders and short brown hair, wearing jeans and an untucked button-down shirt, and seemed less shy than her friend.

Al laughed as Ed broke into a smile. "Well I guess if you'd never met us, we would sound kind of unbelievable," Al admitted. An awkward silence followed; to dispel it, he began to playfully teeter Nina back and forth on his shoulders, eliciting a renewed round of giggles.

Ed turned to Vincent and Lavinia. "We can't thank you enough for protecting Nina. After what her father did to her—" Hughes interrupted him with a cough and a warning look; evidently he didn't want to discuss the whole story. "Uh, anyway, we're just so relieved that she's safe," Ed finished.

"It's our pleasure, Edward," Lavinia answered with a smile. "Nina is part of our family now. Why don't you boys make yourselves comfortable and visit with her for awhile? I've got some lemonade in the fridge." She began to withdraw to the kitchen.

"Um, thank you Mrs. Hughes, but please don't pour one for me," Al called politely. Lavinia's gaze swept curiously over Al's armored form, but she nodded and asked no questions.

Vincent clapped his hand on Hughes' shoulder. "Maes, do you mind following us into the kitchen? There's something we need to ask you."

-o-o-o-o-

At the kitchen table some minutes later, Hughes took a generous swallow of lemonade before setting down his glass. "It's not exactly a _problem_, but I wish you'd tell me why. An internship at Central Command is perfectly safe, even for girls their age."

Vincent and Lavinia smiled tactfully over their own glasses. "Trust me, Maes, you'll feel differently when Elysia turns fifteen. You won't want to let her out of your sight around that many athletic young men either," Vincent countered.

Seeing Hughes frown, Lavinia added hastily, "We're not insinuating that the military would let its soldiers behave inappropriately! I'm sure they're all perfect gentlemen, at least when they're on duty. But these girls have been home-schooled their whole lives, and they're sheltered. We just don't think they're ready to be thrown into that environment right away." Their excuses sounded lame and overprotective, but they couldn't take the risk of telling Vincent's brother the truth. It wasn't that they didn't trust him—especially after watching him act without hesitation to protect Nina from the rest of military—but the more people who knew their secrets, the more dangerous it would become for everyone involved.

Hughes pushed up his glasses, still frowning. "You can't shelter those girls forever, you know. They're going to have to learn to fend for themselves someday."

"Someday," Vincent conceded. "But they just need a little more time." He hesitated, then smiled again and played their trump card. "Besides…you owe us a favor for Nina."

Hughes rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat. "You really know how to fight dirty, don't you? OK, fine. I'll see what I can do." He drained the last of his lemonade, then stood up. "Just promise me you won't try to keep the girls locked away forever, OK? Having automail doesn't make them helpless. Hell, look at the Elric brothers." He gestured back toward the living room, where playful shouts from the boys were alternating with Nina's giggles. "You wouldn't know it to look at them, but those two are more mature and responsible than half the soldiers in my division." He paused, his gaze wandering thoughtfully in the brothers' direction. "Actually, that gives me an idea." He turned and strode back into the living room. Curious, the other adults followed.

Nina was perched on Ed's shoulders as he trotted around the living room in leisurely pursuit of Al, who was lumbering in a circle making roaring noises. "We're catching up to the dragon, Nina! Get ready to slay him!" Ed grinned while Nina shrieked with laughter. Kayla and Brooke were perched on the staircase, chuckling at the boys' antics.

Hughes waited patiently for Nina to finish "slaying" Al before interrupting. "Boys," he began, clapping them on the shoulders, "I think you'll both agree that you owe me a big favor for bringing you here."

Al nodded. "Of course we do, Lieutenant Colonel!"

"…OK," Ed added more cautiously, squinting suspiciously at Hughes.

"And I know how you're going to pay it back." Hughes inclined his head toward Kayla and Brooke and grinned. "For the next week, these young ladies are going to be your interns. Take them with you in the field—somewhere outside of Central Command—and find them something to do." On the staircase, the girls' eyes widened in surprise.

"Wait, what?" Ed objected. "We can't do something like that!"

"Sure you can. I'll clear it with your commanding officer."

"But we don't have time!" the blond boy protested. "We're usually traveling, and we do a lot of stuff that's dangerous—"

"You also do a lot of boring library research and inspections right here in Central City. Make the time. Unless," Hughes raised his eyebrows and smiled diabolically, "you'd like me to tell Colonel Mustang how you violated his orders and came here? I'm sure he'll think of _lots_ of interesting jobs for you to do when he hears about that."

"Do we get a say in this?" Brooke protested.

"No," Lavinia and Vincent answered in unison.

"This is ridiculous!" Ed fumed.

"Brother, let's not be rude," interjected Al quietly.

Ed turned to the girls, who were both glaring at him. "Nothing personal," he added while Al smiled in embarrassment. "It's just, we have things to do."

Over Hughes' shoulder, Vincent coughed. "Mature and responsible, you say?" he murmured as Hughes made a face.

But then a smile stole over his features. "What do you think, Nina?" Hughes asked innocently as he turned to the four-year-old girl. "Don't you think your big brothers and big sisters should all get along?"

"Oh, that's just blackmail," Kayla muttered under her breath. Beside her, Brooke rolled her eyes.

"Yay! Let's all play together!" Nina responded happily, hopping up and down a little in her enthusiasm as she looked back and forth appealingly between the two pairs of teenagers. Over her head, Ed and Al's eyes met, the older brother fuming while the younger one shrugged uncertainly.

"Fine!" Ed threw up his hands and sighed. "I guess if we have to do this, we have to do this."

"Great! Then it's all set," Hughes gushed as he clapped the boys on the shoulders once more and grinned, cheerfully ignoring the fact that besides himself and Nina, no one in the room looked even remotely happy.


	5. Secrets and Revelations

Chapter 5: Secrets and Revelations  
><span>

_Recovered Twelve Years Ago  
>Coded Alchemy Research Notes of Dr. Morishita (Untranslated)<br>_

Consider first the latitude of this precious stone,  
>Where the dragon and the wolf be made into one;<br>Espoused with the spirit of life to live in rest,  
>Earth and air equally proportioned, that is best.<p>

Blue and gold, the phoenix's feathers in bright colors,  
>Turned into perfect, true, ardent waters;<br>Fire which neither gold nor silver can abide,  
>You shall calcine bodies, perfect, dissolve, divide.<p>

Then shall the Moon be full appearing by daylight,  
>Then is the uprising of the Sun appearing bright;<br>There is the purgatory passed, and her course at an end,  
>From thence by many colors into the heavens ascend.<p>

Hide the altitude of bodies, and show out their profundity,  
>Which being comprehended all the secrets of Azothestry;<br>When clouds of darkness blow over, and all appears fair,  
>The whitest earth, the hottest fire, the clearest water, the purest air.<p>

Espoused with the spirit, into two glasses let these be done,  
>And in one glass, and with one rule, turn four natures into one.*<p>

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<em>  
><em>Central City Residential District<em>

"Kayla honey, did you get some breakfast?" Lavinia's voice called from the kitchen.

"Gmmf mmf!" Kayla called back to her mother, one hand on the doorknob of the back door as the other balanced a mug of tea. Pausing long enough to remove the triangle of toast dangling from her mouth, she swallowed the bite she'd taken and tried again: "I mean, got it!" She replaced the toast and continued through the door, out into the backyard where Brooke and Nina were engaged in an energetic round of horseback-ride.

The little girl was squealing with giggles as she urged her steed to gallop faster. "Good morning, Big Sis!" she called playfully.

"Glad you could finally join us," Brooke added teasingly. "It figures—the one day we actually have to be on time for something is the day you oversleep."

Swallowing the last bite of toast, Kayla made a face at her friend, then sank down onto the back step and took a drink from her mug. "Guess I'm just used to the home-school lifestyle," she chuckled as she stretched lazily. "Anyway, we've got what, fifteen minutes before those guys are supposed to get here? Plenty of time!" She glanced down at herself and self-consciously smoothed the wrinkles in her sweater and skirt. Luckily they weren't trying to impress anyone.

"Yay, Big Brothers are coming!" Nina sang. She was bouncing up and down restlessly on Brooke's back. "Come on, horsey! Let's gallop some more!" she urged.

"I think this horsey's all galloped out for now," Brooke laughed. "Let's put you down so I can catch my breath before our new 'friends' get here." She began to lower the little girl to the ground; but Nina, wound up with excitement and in no mood to stop playing, continued to bounce and fidget impatiently.

"Brooke, your ha—" Kayla warned just as Nina's waving arms collided with Brooke's beret and sent it flying. There was silence as all three girls held their breath, Nina staring up in astonishment at the exposed gray wolf's ears on Brooke's head.

"Oh no," murmured Brooke as the older girls' eyes met in dismay.

"Big Sis..." Nina gasped, her eyes frozen as wide as saucers. "You have…" They had managed to keep their secret from the little girl thus far, not wanting to frighten her. After everything she'd been through, what she needed was a normal family life, not a reminder of more animal-human experiments—

"_CAT EARS!"_ Nina whooped, grinning and hopping up and down with delight, apparently not frightened in the least. "They're so cute! Can I pet them? Pleeeeease?" With relief, Kayla burst out laughing as Brooke collapsed in a sigh.

"They're _wolf_ ears, Nina," she chuckled. "But yes, you can pet them." She bent her head down for the four-year-old to reach. "This is another one of our secrets, OK?" She switched to speaking silently: _Like how we can talk like this. No one except our parents can know. Got it?_

The little girl nodded with exaggerated solemnity. _I won't tell anybody,_ she promised gravely. They had finally managed to impress upon the little girl that silent speech was for serious matters only. But a grin quickly stole back onto her features as she stroked Brooke's ears. "So soft!" she exclaimed, causing both of the older girls to grin.

The little girl turned to Kayla. "Do you have cat ears too, Big Sis?" she asked hopefully.

"_Wolf!_ Not cat," Brooke grumbled while Kayla smirked.

"Nope, I have something different." Kayla pulled off her knit fedora with one hand and used the other to fluff up the blue feathers on her head with a proud smile.

Nina stared up at the iridescent blue halo, her eyes widening once more and her face breaking into a delighted grin. "BIRD EARS!" she shrieked happily. Now it was Kayla's turn to sigh while Brooke laughed, but she obligingly bent down so Nina could stroke the feathers. "So pretty!" the little girl pronounced.

The back door opened a crack and Lavinia's head appeared. "Girls, your guests are coming up the front walkway—oh!" Her eyes swept both girls up and down as they guiltily rushed to put their hats back on. "I guess we'll talk about this later," she frowned, aiming a worried glance at Nina.

"It was an accident, Mom," Kayla explained. "But she'll keep it a secret. Won't you, Nina?" The little girl nodded earnestly as the doorbell sounded from inside the house.

_Let's go, Bird Ears, _Brooke teased silently as she headed for the back door.

_After you, Miss Cat, _Kayla smirked back as they filed inside. Beside them, Nina giggled loudly.

"Girls! Talk out loud or not at all," scolded Lavinia over her shoulder.

-o-o-o-o-

"So, um, where are we going today?" Brooke spoke up tentatively as the girls walked with Ed and Al down the sidewalk towards downtown. "What kind of intern things do you want us to do?"

Ed, hands jammed into the pockets of his red coat, responded a frown. "We're still trying to figure that out," he grumbled.

"Let's head into town and then decide," Al added more diplomatically.

They lapsed into awkward silence. While they walked, the girls kept sneaking sidelong glances at Al's armor. Finally Kayla spoke up. "Um, I hope this isn't a rude thing to ask, Al, but…your armor…is that like automail for your whole body?"

Al chuckled nervously. "I guess you could call it that. Ed and I kind of had an accident with alchemy when we were younger. He has automail too, on his right arm and left leg." Beside them, Ed scowled and remained silent. "But we don't really like to talk about it."

The girls nodded. "We were in a fire when we were little, and that's why we wear these collars," Brooke offered, "but we don't like to talk about it either."

Al smiled sympathetically. From the corner of her eye, Brooke saw that Ed had relaxed a little and was no longer scowling. "It's tough having automail when you're that young," he said kindly. Then he seemed to catch himself, hunching his shoulders further as his face returned to its stiff mask.

Another awkward silence passed as they continued walking, until Brooke spoke up again. "Hey, what's a chimera?"

Both brothers' heads snapped in her direction. "Why? Where did you hear that word?" Ed asked with forced casualness.

"From one of the soldiers that came to my house," Kayla answered. "I overheard him say that the military was looking for one. I couldn't tell what he was talking about," she added evasively, and Brooke gave her an approving nod. They weren't about to let on what they knew about Nina.

"In alchemy, a chimera is a hybrid of two animals," Al answered as Ed shot him a warning look. "It's really hard to do alchemy on living things, so alchemists who can make chimeras are really rare."

"Like mixing up a dog and a cat?" Brooke replied airily. "Why would anyone want to do that? It just sounds mean."

"It _is_ mean," Ed responded with a frown, staring off into the distance. "Nobody should do it."

_They know more about Nina than they're saying,_ Kayla said silently to Brooke. _Should we keep going?_

_OK, but we need to be careful,_ her friend answered.

"Hey," Kayla asked casually, "people are animals too, right? So could you make a chimera by mixing up a person and an animal?" Both boys jerked their heads up, their bearings tense. "I mean, if a person wanted to fly or something. That could be cool!" She laughed, making a joke of it to ease the boys' nervousness.

"Ha ha, only you would think of that!" Brooke played along.

The boys had relaxed somewhat. "It's not really something you should joke about," Al lectured gently. "If you tried that, the person could get hurt very badly, and there would be no way to reverse it." He paused. "At least none that we know of."

_So they don't know what happened to Nina when you found her,_ Brooke said to Kayla.

"That gives me an idea," Ed interjected suddenly. He cleared his throat and declared importantly, "It just so happens that Al and I are investigating chimeras right now."

"Brother!" Al protested, his eyes darting nervously from Ed to the girls.

"It's all right Al, we won't tell them any classified information. But what we need," he turned back to Brooke and Kayla, "is for you two to go to the military library and do some research for us. Look up everything you can find about chimeras." He pulled a pen and pad of paper from a pocket and commenced scribbling. "The Main Branch isn't far from here. I'm writing down the address and a note that'll get you in the door."

The girls exchanged glances. _Is he ditching us?_ Brooke fumed silently. _Well, I guess it doesn't matter—we might actually be able to find out what happened to us!_

_But a military library!_ Kayla countered, her eyes wide with apprehension. _Is it safe? What if someone recognizes us?_

"Are you sure this is OK, Brother…?" Al asked, reluctance in his voice.

"It'll be fine!" Ed beamed confidently, ripping the scrawled sheet of paper from his pad and handing it to Brooke. "We'll come back to get you at 5:00 P.M. sharp. Remember, since you're our interns you have to do whatever assignments we give you. So don't slack off or go anywhere else, OK?" He stared at them expectantly, arms folded across his chest.

"Fine," Brooke smiled through gritted teeth as she tucked the folded piece of paper into her pocket. "And if we get into any trouble for being in a military library by ourselves, we'll be sure to tell them _exactly_ who sent us there." Ed frowned, the two of them sharing a brief glare.

"It's around that corner, about two blocks down," Al pointed helpfully, looking slightly sheepish. "We'll see you soon." With that, the brothers turned and strode briskly down the street in the opposite direction.

"We _so_ just got ditched," Brooke muttered after them.

-o-o-o-o-

"That was mean, Brother," Al admonished Ed as they continued toward Central Command. "We both know there's nothing about chimeras in the military library. We've looked ourselves."

"So what? They don't want to do this dumb internship any more than we do." Ed responded breezily, his arms folded behind his head. "At least this way they'll have books to read. It's better than sending them to inspect sewer pipes or something."

"I guess," Al replied glumly. "Still, I feel bad lying to them. They seem like nice girls."

Ed shot Al a mischievous look. "_Do_ they, little brother? 'Nice girls.' So…you like them?"

"No no no, it's nothing like that!" Al responded hastily, waving his hands.

"Ha ha, if you weren't make of armor you'd be blushing, Al!"

"You're just trying to change the subject!" Al pouted. "Well anyway, we're here." They had reached Central Command's East Gate, where Ed flashed his pocket watch at the security guards for identification and let out a last snicker as they headed through the entrance.

Roy greeted them with raised eyebrows from behind his desk. "I was informed by Lieutenant Colonel Hughes that you two would be looking after a pair of young lady interns this morning. Don't tell me you're neglecting your duties?"

"Of course not," Ed scoffed. "We sent them to the library to do some research for us."

"You mean you ditched them? How ungentlemanly. You're never going to get a girlfriend if you act that way, Fullmetal—" Roy was rewarded with a torrent of profanity that only served to widen his smirk. He sat with his elbows propped on his desk, chin resting on his folded hands until Ed's sputtering ran down. "If you're quite finished," Roy continued unperturbed as he reached across his desk for a file folder, "it's actually convenient for me that you two are alone, since I have news that's not for civilian ears." He opened the folder and read from it: "The military announces that Shou Tucker, State Alchemist, was executed by firing squad at 0600 this morning."

Al gasped. "You mean they're covering it all up!" snarled Ed.

"Essentially," Mustang sighed. "And we've lost any chance we might have had to question him. However, I've made arrangements for you to question someone else who might have relevant information." He tapped the file folder's edge on the desk surface thoughtfully. "Remember that similar case I mentioned from twelve years ago? Well, _that_ suspect is still alive and in prison. Grand hasn't let me get anywhere near him since we arrested him, but you two are going to visit him this afternoon."

"But, um, why would the Brigadier General let us question him?" Al asked. "He knows you're Ed's commanding officer, and that he'll just report whatever he finds out to you."

"True." Roy leaned back in his chair. "But at my request, Hughes has been spreading rumors that Fullmetal hates working under my command—"

"Well that's true enough," Ed interrupted grumpily.

"—and that he might be persuaded to transfer under Grand's command instead—"

"Wait a minute!" Ed protested. "No way would I ever—!"

"_Relax, _Fullmetal. You're not transferring anywhere. But Grand doesn't know that, and in the meantime it was enough to persuade him to give you access to Dr. Morishita." After another moment's thoughtful hesitation, Roy slid the file folder across the desk to Ed. "He's at the maximum security prison. Find out anything you can about who else he was working with—and especially if there are still test subjects out there. Say or do whatever you have to get that information." His dark eyes were serious, his jaw clenched determinedly. "And keep your eyes open for anything strange. I'm counting on you two."

Behind the boys, Hughes burst through the door of the office. "Roy! The serial killer Scar has been sighted in the downtown district!" he exclaimed, out of breath from running. "We're going to need your help."

Roy immediately stood and grabbed his coat. "You boys are dismissed," he said as he swung the black overcoat around his shoulders. "Continue with your assigned mission. And stay out of downtown until further notice." He and Hughes rushed out of the office, leaving Ed and Al to stare after them in surprise.

-o-o-o-o-

The brothers had little time to ponder the mysterious serial killer. As they waited in the prison's visitation room, Al flipped through the file folder Roy had given them. "Brother," he gasped. "There were other little girls who were experimented on years before Nina! Two of them. Colonel Mustang's team almost rescued them, but they were too late." He exhaled sadly. "No wonder the Colonel wants to solve this case so badly."

Ed nodded grimly, fidgeting as his eyes flickered around the small, bare concrete room. They sat in chairs facing a thick glass window, looking into an identical room where the prisoner would be brought in. Both rooms had been safeguarded against alchemy: the ceilings were etched with transmutation circles designed to absorb and disperse alchemical energy. A sensible precaution for a jail that held alchemists, he supposed, but it would also limit his own abilities..._To do what?_ he asked himself sharply. Ed felt his fists clench, a little afraid of his own anger as he remembered how he had nearly beat Tucker to a pulp. _Do whatever you have to,_ Mustang had said.

Through the window, the boys watched as a door opened and two guards appeared, escorting a tall, thin man handcuffed between them. Long black hair sprinkled with a few gray hairs lay over his shoulders, matching his neatly trimmed mustache and goatee. When he caught sight of the brothers, he inclined his head and gave them an officious smile. One guard pulled a chair away from the table as the other gestured for him to sit, almost politely; once the prisoner was seated, the guards left the room.

"Hello, young gentlemen," the man greeted them. "What can I do for you today?"

"_We'll _ask the questions, Dr. Morishita, " Ed began through gritted teeth. "What do you know about Shou Tucker? And experiments to turn little kids into chimeras?"

The man tipped his head back and laughed. "So we're getting straight to the point, are we? Well, lucky for you I was instructed to cooperate." His gaze traveled pointedly to Ed's right arm, then his left leg, then to Al's armor. "I see that you two are no strangers to _experiments_ yourselves. Human transmutation, if I'm not mistaken." His oily smile widened. "You committed the ultimate taboo to further your own knowledge and power. We're not so different, you and I."

Ed began to let fly a string of profanity, but Al rested a metal hand on his arm and gave him a restraining look. "Let's assume for a moment that's true," Al said evenly. "What taboos did you and Tucker commit, exactly?"

"Ah, Shou Tucker. My young apprentice. He was a brilliant theorist—a great help in my work—but not terribly skilled at transmutation. He could only make crude monsters, whereas _I_ was the one with the talent to put our theories into practice." Morishita leaned closer to the window, his mouth cracking into an excited grin. "Very young girls made the best test subjects. All that potential generative energy, it was almost impossible for the chimeric transmutation to fail. Later of course, once I'd mastered the skill, it became a simple matter to apply it to adults of both genders—" He stopped abruptly, cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. "I mean it _would_ have been a simple matter, in theory. I could hardly have continued my work while in prison, after all." He gestured with his handcuffs and smiled.

"Doctor," Ed growled. "What happened to the little girls you experimented on all those years ago?"

The man's smile faded. "I don't know," he answered with sudden seriousness. "They either escaped, or they were taken from me. The military doesn't seem to know either. Such a waste." He shook his head sadly. "I really wanted to continue experimenting on them as they matured."

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Ed lunged at the window, shouting obscenities. The tempered glass was thick enough to withstand the force of his automail arm, so he settled for pounding on it loudly. "You're an animal who deserves to be executed just like Tucker!"

Doors burst open on both sides of the glass, a pair of guards rushing into each room at the noise. On his feet behind his brother, Al was waving his hands and smiling submissively. "It's all right, officers, everything's under control here!"

"Sirs, both of you are going to have to leave!" one of the men barked authoritatively. "If you don't comply, I will call Brigadier General Grand here immediately." Al's shoulders slumped in defeat.

At the window, Ed aimed a last snarl at Morishita, who was standing up at a leisurely pace while his guards waited patiently. "Tucker executed, hmm? That's not what I heard," he murmured with a leering grin. "Pleasure meeting you boys," he added smoothly before turning and walking out of the room.

"You're just lucky there's a wall between us!" Ed yelled after him, then turned back toward the guards in their room. _"Fine,_ we're going," he hissed.

Outside of the prison entrance, Ed squinted up at the noonday sky, where rain-heavy clouds were just beginning to blot out the sun. He let out a long sigh. "I guess monsters really do exist, Al," he said sadly.

Al nodded. "Brother, for a man who's been in prison for twelve years, did Dr. Morishita seem kind of...clean and cheerful to you?"

"Now that you mention it, he did," Ed scowled. "And I didn't like what he said about Tucker, either. We'd better go report all this to the Colonel." A faint roll of thunder sounded in the distance as they turned and headed back toward Central Command.

-o-o-o-o-

In the library, Brooke slammed her book shut and pushed it across the table toward a large pile of discarded volumes. "This is stupid," she grumbled, keeping her voice low to avoid disturbing the other patrons. "There's nothing about chimeras in this entire library!"

"Yeah," sighed Kayla as she closed her own book and laid it neatly on top of the pile. She had relaxed considerably since they had first arrived; they were far from the only civilian interns here, and none of the employees or patrons had glanced twice in their direction since they'd arrived. "Do you think Ed and Al knew it? Al did look kind of guilty when they left."

"They definitely knew," Brooke scoffed, folding her arms. "And I intend to have a little talk with them when they get back. _If_ they even bother to come get us."

Kayla frowned. "Well meanwhile, it's lunchtime and I'm starving. Want to go get something to eat?"

Brooke was on her feet before Kayla even finished her sentence. "Do I ever—let's get out of here!"

-o-o-o-o-

The girls were halfway to their favorite café on Main Street when the downpour hit, forcing them to take shelter under an awning at the entrance of a bank. "Doesn't look like it's going to let up anytime soon," Brooke observed. "Want to make a run for it? It's only another two blocks."

Kayla's stomach growled in response. "I guess that's a yes," she chuckled. She tugged her knit fedora down more securely over her ears, and Brooke did likewise with her beret. With an exchange of nods, the girls took off in a run down the block, laughing as the raindrops pelted them.

A loud booming _crack_ echoed through the air from somewhere nearby. The girls' eyes met as they slowed. "Was that thunder?" Kayla asked, looking around them in confusion.

"Maybe a big truck backfiring? I don't know. Come on, we're almost there—" But as they rounded the next corner they came crashing to a halt. The rain-soaked street before them was filled with soldiers, blocking all traffic and pedestrians. In the middle of the road, with his back to them, a black-haired officer stood holding a pistol pointed up in the air, smoke curling from its barrel.

"That's as far as you go," he called down the far end of the street in a clear voice.

"Hey, he's one of the soldiers who came to my house," whispered Kayla, scanning the crowd of blue uniforms with a shiver of apprehension. They kept well back from the soldiers, peering around the corner of a building so as not to be noticed. "And that blonde woman standing behind him—she was the other one."

"Who's he talking to?" Brooke demanded, craning for a look around the assembled soldiers. "He sounds nuts." They could hear a man's voice yelling back, something about _sacrilege _and _God's judgment._ Just then a tall redheaded soldier who was blocking their view of the man stepped back far enough to give them a clear line of sight, and both girls gasped.

"It's that guy!" Kayla exclaimed. The man before them was tall with dark-tanned skin and white hair, and a distinctive X-shaped scar covering much of his face. The mysterious man who had watched over and protected them when they were younger. "It's Mr. X!"

"No way—it looks like they're arresting him!" Brooke declared in alarm, her hands balled into fists. "Can we do something to help him? Cause a distraction or something?"

"Brooke, no!" argued Kayla, gripping her friend's arm and shaking her head firmly. "We can't take the risk of getting caught ourselves." She turned back to the street, straining for a better view. "Besides, we don't even know why they're after him. Those soldiers helped Nina, remember? They aren't evil. Maybe he did something bad."

"He's not evil either. He helped us." Brooke's fists clenched tightly; but she took no action, knowing Kayla was right. Whatever he had done for them in the past, he was still a stranger to them, possibly a little crazy. And probably capable of protecting himself in any case.

"I am the Flame Alchemist, Roy Mustang," the black-haired officer addressed the scarred man with more than a touch of arrogance in his voice.

"Yet another who deviates from the path of God!" Mr. X shouted back, his face full of rage. Kayla and Brooke exchanged worried glances; maybe their protector was more than just a _little_ crazy.

As they watched, Mustang turned behind him and tossed his pistol to the blonde woman. "Colonel!" she protested, but he dismissed her concerns with a wave of his white-gloved hand.

"You would still challenge me to battle, knowing who I am?" Mustang taunted the scarred man, who only smiled confidently.

"Kick his butt, Mr. X!" Brooke muttered under her breath, but her voice had lost some confidence. Kayla's gaze searched back and forth between the two men, genuinely conflicted. By now both men had dropped into a fighting stance. Mustang poised his right hand as if to snap his fingers; the scarred man made a fist with his own, and as the girls watched it strangely began to glow with red light.

"_Colonel!"_ the blonde woman yelled more forcefully, but it was too late; the men were lunging for one another. She sprang after Mustang and with a sweep of her leg, tripped him and sent him crashing to the ground just as the scarred man's glowing hand would have caught him in the face. In a continuing fluid motion she whipped both her guns forward and began to fire at Mr. X, who nimbly dodged her bullets and retreated down the block.

"They're really serious!" gasped Kayla as both girls stared in shock.

"Wow, that was—" Brooke's eyes swept back and forth from Mr. X to the blonde woman in amazement.

"What the hell are you doing, Lieutenant Hawkeye?!" Mustang exclaimed, furious.

"You're useless when it's raining. Please stay back, Colonel!" She trained her guns on the scarred man as he pressed his back against a building, each tensely waiting for the other to move. Behind her on the ground, Mustang was suddenly so chastened that he nearly looked ill.

"Oh yeah," the tall redheaded soldier called out, holding his hand out to catch the falling raindrops. "You can't make sparks when it's this damp, huh?"

Tired of waiting, the scarred man reached out to the wall behind him, and with a red pulse from his arm sent a deep fissure up all the way up the building's height. He quickly scaled the wall using the cracked surface as a handhold, heedless of the soldiers opening fire from below, until he had vaulted onto the roof and disappeared.

"Run! Get away!" Brooke urged after him in a whisper. From their vantage point at the corner they could see clearly where he had gone: he'd made a sharp right turn on the roof and climbed down the side of the building across from them, continuing in that direction. But the soldiers assumed he'd gone straight down the back of the building and were giving chase in the wrong way. "Come on!" Brooke tugged at Kayla's arm. "Let's follow that guy. I want to find out who he is!"

"Brooke—are we sure he's one of the good guys? I think he just tried to kill that Colonel Mustang guy!" Kayla protested nervously.

"If he did, it was self-defense. Come _on." _ Brooke urged, and Kayla allowed herself to be pulled into a run after the man from their past.

-o-o-o-o-

But by the time the girls caught up with scarred man, several minutes later and several blocks away, he had already found a new target.

He was down the block from them, staring into an alley with his right arm glowing. "Fullmetal Alchemist! In the name of God, thou shalt perish!" he bellowed at his unseen quarry.

"Oh no," muttered Kayla as they ran down the street toward him, breathing hard from running. "Isn't the Fullmetal Alchemist...?"

"...Ed," finished Brooke, her eyes wide and serious.

"Who are you? Why are you after us?!" they heard Ed's voice call from the alley.

"State alchemists profane the work of God!" Mr. X bellowed. "I am an agent of God, handing down his judgment!"

"STOP!" yelled Kayla. The scarred man snapped his head around in surprise. Without pausing, Brooke streaked past him into the alley, standing in between him and the brothers and holding out her arms out protectively. Kayla rushed in after her, backing her up.

"Get out of here!" Ed yelled. The alley led to a dead end; he knelt on the ground against the back wall, bruised and bloodied; next to him sat Al, the right arm of his armor cracked nearly to the point of shattering. "It's not safe! We'll handle this guy—"

Brooke ignored him and addressed Mr. X. "These guys might be jerks, but they're our friends!" she declared, aiming a challenging glare at his red eyes. "We won't let you hurt them!"

The scarred man's eyes went wide as he looked between the two girls, shocked recognition competing with the rage that contorted his features. "You should not be here. Be gone from this place!" he declared angrily.

"No!" Kayla barked back with unaccustomed forcefulness. "We know you're not evil. You saved both our lives." She gestured backwards toward the brothers. "But if we're worth saving, then so are they!"

Mr. X's arm continued to pulse with red light as he stared at them, conflicting emotions warring in his eyes. "Ishavala's will must be done," he declared through gritted teeth. His gaze narrowed on Kayla alone. _"You_ should understand more than anyone what State Alchemists have done to our people!"

Kayla's eyes widened. _He's saying I'm Ishvalan,_ she gasped silently to Brooke. _I knew it. _But her stance didn't waver as she stared at the man.

"You should live in innocence, and not witness what needs to be done here!" he spat.

"_No."_ Kayla repeated firmly. "What you're doing is wrong. I won't just walk away and let you hurt my friends!" She folded her arms over her chest, lifting her chin stubbornly.

"And neither will I," Brooke glared.

"_There he is—this way!"_ came a man's shout from down the block, and the unmistakable sound of a group of soldiers running toward them. With a growl of frustration, Mr. X took quickly surveyed the dead-end alley, then slapped his glowing hand onto the sidewalk. The girls hid their eyes as the concrete shattered in a brilliant flash of red light. When the light faded the scarred man was gone, a gaping hole in the sidewalk leading down to the sewer tunnel beneath.

"Down there, in the sewer!" A flash of blue uniforms appeared in the alley, jumping down the tunnel after him.

"Are you four all right?" The girls looked up to find Colonel Mustang looking them over with concerned eyes. Behind them, Lieutenant Hawkeye was staring at the girls sharply, her eyes flickering from Brooke to Kayla and back again.

"We're all right, Colonel," Al answered, cradling his damaged arm. "At least I think so. Aren't we, Brother?" Ed nodded mutely, staring down into the hole in the ground.

"All right. We'll regroup later." Mustang gave a brief nod to Brooke and Kayla. "I'll leave it to these young ladies to look after you two for the moment." Without another backward glance, he hopped down into the tunnel; Hawkeye followed a heartbeat behind him, aiming a last stare toward the girls before disappearing.

Once the four were alone again, Kayla exhaled and sagged against the alley wall behind her. "That was intense," she murmured. Beside her, Brooke held out a hand to help Ed to his feet.

"Thanks," Ed muttered as he accepted the hand up. "For stopping him from killing us, I mean. But what the hell was that? You two _know_ that guy?!"

"It's kind of a long story," Brooke sighed, her cheeks reddening as one hand rubbed the back of her head. "One we'd rather keep to ourselves."

Ed frowned in response. Behind him Al began to lumber to his feet, pushing himself up with his arms. But him damaged arm unexpectedly cracked further under the pressure and he stumbled, his helmet bumping into the wall next to him. He let out a gasp as the helmet came loose and fell from his shoulders, frantically scrambling to catch it as it fell.

"Al!" Kayla cried. "You're..." Al quickly clamped the helmet back onto his shoulders, but it was too late. The girls had seen the truth: his armor was utterly empty, with no head or body underneath. "How...?"

Ed's face had gone gray with dread, and Al's armored face looked frightened. "Please..." Ed began. "Please promise me you won't tell anyone what you just saw! If the military finds out what happened to Al, what we did, I don't know what they'll do. He's my little brother, I need to protect him. Please..."

Brooke and Kayla stared at the brothers in amazement. Neither girl was sure which sight was more shocking: Al's condition, or the fact that Ed, normally so arrogant and impatient, was literally pleading with them. The fear of the military reflected in his eyes was a feeling that the girls knew all too well.

_They're just like us, _Brooke heard Kayla say in her head, wonder in her silent voice. _Should we tell them?_

Brooke turned to Kayla and gave a single nod, no more words necessary. Then she reached up and pulled off her beret, shaking out her short brown hair and gray wolves' ears. Beside her Kayla removed her fedora, letting her blue feathers tumble down over her bright auburn hair.

"It's OK," Brooke promised with a mischievous smile. "Trust us—we won't say a word."

* * *

><p><em>* Morishita's notes were plagiarized and adapted from two real alchemy writings from the 15<em>_th__ century, "Recapitulation of the Twelve Gates" by George Ripley and "The Animal Stone" by Samuel Norton, which are both posted on an alchemy web site called Levity. You can also catch a glimpse of "Recapitulation" in the FMA first anime, where it's written on the letter designating Ed as the Fullmetal Alchemist._


	6. Scream

Chapter 6: Scream

_Eleven Years, Ten Months Ago_  
><em>Central City Residential District<em>

"Brooke honey, no jumping!" Raven admonished gently, doing her best to stifle a smile. The mute three-year-old girl with the short brown hair, blue eyes and gray wolf's ears was making no attempt to hide her own mischievous grin as she bounced up and down on her bed. But she complied with her mother's admonition, folding her legs under herself mid-bounce and plopping dramatically down on the mattress. Raven could not resist chuckling at that.

"Do you want me to read you something new tonight?" she asked the child as she bent over the bookshelf next to the bed. It held at least three dozen children's books, but Brooke was shaking her head vigorously. Raven sighed. "OK, guess it's the usual then." She pulled out a well-worn volume called _Little Lost Wolf,_ settled herself on the nearby chair, and began to read.

It was a simple story: a wolf cub, driven away from the rest of his pack by hunters, was forced to undertake a perilous journey to reach them again. Raven and Rick had taken so many turns reading it to Brooke that the little girl knew it by heart, often silently mouthing the words along with them. Today she had worn herself out from playing and simply listened passively, eyelids occasionally drooping closed and fluttering back open as she struggled to stay awake. Raven could practically recite the book from memory too, and allowed her mind to wander as she read.

It had been two months since she and Rick had found the strange little girl in the cardboard box and taken her home. They could not begin to imagine what kind of life she must have endured up until that night. The most basic objects of everyday life were unrecognizable puzzles to her: shoes, the bathtub, a hairbrush, her bed. The first night, when they had walked her into her new bedroom and told her it was time to go to sleep, she had simply stood by the wall looking confused, and made questioning motions of putting something over her face like a mask. She had learned quickly, though—more quickly than any three-year-old ought to have been capable of—and now, if you looked past the fact that she couldn't speak, and those impossible wolf's ears peeking out from under her hair, she seemed like any other normal, if precocious little girl.

The wolf cub was only halfway through his perilous journey, about to cross a fast-moving river swollen by a heavy rainstorm, but Brooke had finally lost her battle against sleep; her head lolled peacefully against her pillow, her breathing steady and even, the eyes beneath her softly closed eyelids just beginning to flutter into dreaming. Smiling, Raven quietly closed the book and stood up, turned off the lamp on the bedside table, and left the room, leaving the door ajar in case the little girl woke up.

Brooke had never failed to sleep through the night, but half an hour later, as Rick lay on their bed reading a book and Raven brushed her hair in front of the bedroom mirror, they heard a loud crash from the girl's room. With an exchange of panicked glances, both parents ran from their room into Brooke's.

Her bedside lamp lay shattered on the floor, while the girl herself sat bolt upright in bed, her mouth open in a soundless scream as she shook her head over and over in a terrified _No._ "Brooke!" Raven cried, taking the girl's shoulders in her hands. _"Brooke! _Honey, it's OK! You just had a nightmare. You're safe, I promise!" Brooke's eyes snapped to Raven as if seeing her for the first time, and immediately the silent scream stopped, her small body going limp as the tenseness drained out of her. Raven sat on the bed and wrapped her arms around the girl, rocking slightly. "The nightmare's over," she whispered, hoping fervently that it was true.

Rick knelt on the bed beside them, his hand stroking Brooke's head. "We're not going to let anything bad happen to you, sweetheart, all right? Never again." He was smiling gently, but his jaw was set in a firm line. "That's a promise," he added determinedly. Brooke nodded, her eyes wide and trusting as she gazed at her adoptive parents.

They sat with her for another half hour until she fell back into exhausted sleep, then quietly tucked her in and crept back to their own room. "Do you think it was a flashback?" Rick asked gruffly as they walked, keeping his voice low. "Of...whatever happened to her before we found her?"

"What else could it be?" Raven replied sadly. "It was more than just an ordinary nightmare. She was terrified."

Rick nodded and swallowed, trying—Raven could always tell—to disguise the fact that he had been moved nearly to tears by the thought of their daughter suffering in a laboratory. After a long pause, he added, "I'm making good progress on the automail collar. It should be ready in another month or two. Then she'll finally be able to talk to us." He paused, swallowed again. "And she can tell us what happened to her."

They both fell silent as they reached their bedroom, Raven feeling herself shudder a little at the thought. She wondered if she even wanted to know—then corrected herself firmly, and nodded to Rick in agreement. If their little girl had had to live through a nightmare, they owed it to her to find out everything they could about what had happened, no matter how upsetting it might be to hear. If they were going to protect her, now and in the future, they would need to understand just what they were protecting her _from._

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Alley in Downtown Central City  
>Immediate Aftermath of Scar's Attack<em>

Brooke and Kayla quickly replaced their hats before anyone else could see them, while Al clamped his helmet back on with equal swiftness. "Wait a minute," Ed exclaimed at the girls. "You're telling us that you two are _chimeras?!_ This whole time, and you never told us—"

"Well, _you_ never told _us_ that you two are…what are you exactly?" Brooke protested. "Whatever—you're just as much freaks as we are."

"_We're not freaks!"_ Ed's temper was taking hold, his arms beginning to gesture more emphatically.

"Brother, calm down," Al interjected nervously, as Kayla shot a reproachful look at Brooke.

"Sure looks like it from where I'm standing," Brooke replied to Ed with a smirk, ignoring the other two.

"Well, at least we're not pals with a serial killer—ow!" After one gesticulation too many, Ed brought his left arm down quickly, cradling his elbow. "Great. I think your _friend_ sprained my arm."

"He's not exactly our—wait, are you really hurt?" Brooke's fuming turned to grudging concern. "Let me see it. My mom's a nurse, I know some first aid." Ed glared and turned away as she reached out to him, her fingers just brushing his arm. A static spark of purple electricity jumped between them with a loud crackle.

"What the _hell?!"_ Brooke exclaimed, jerking her hand back as if she'd been shocked, a stunned Ed staring back at her. "What was that? Did you just use alchemy?" she demanded.

"No, that definitely came from you," he answered as Al and Kayla looked on in astonishment. "Was that some chimera thing?" He paused and straightened out his left arm, staring at in wonder. "Hey, my arm's OK now—whatever you just did, I think it healed me!"

Brooke's eyes met Kayla's in alarm. "I have _no_ idea what just happened. Nothing like that has ever happened to either of us before," she insisted.

"Wait a minute…yes it has," Kayla realized aloud. "Brooke, do you remember what I told you about the night I found Nina? When she touched me, there was this bright purple light, and I ended up on the ground feeling all drained…" She shuddered, not wanting to revisit the events of that strange night. "And she went from being a chimera to a little girl and a dog."

"What?" Al exclaimed. "She still was a chimera when you found her? You didn't tell us that!"

Kayla nodded, embarrassed. "We kept that part secret. I didn't understand what happened at the time, but now I think…I must have been the one who healed her."

Several moments of silence elapsed as the four contemplated this new finding.

"Do you realize what this means?" Brooke asked, excitement creeping into her voice. "We can _heal_ people, Kayla!" A mischievous grin crept back onto her lips, and she turned and slapped her hand against Ed's forehead, which sported a prominent bruise from Scar's attack.

"Ow," he yelped. Nothing further happened. No purple light appeared and the bruise remained stubbornly in place; the only visible change to Ed's forehead was that it had knit back into a glare. "Nice job. You managed to make it hurt more, not less," he grumbled.

"Oops," Brooke conceded, withdrawing her hand in embarrassment. "I guess it's kind of hard to control."

Al was twiddling his armored fingers nervously. "The soldiers might come back this way soon. Maybe we should get out of this alley and go somewhere we can sit and talk," he suggested.

Kayla nodded, and her stomach growled in punctuation. "Can it be over lunch?" she asked hopefully.

-o-o-o-o-

A round of hot tea and sandwiches improved everyone's mood. By now the rain had stopped, and the four teenagers sat outdoors at a small, otherwise deserted café where they were able to talk freely. With so many secrets disclosed already, there seemed no reason for Ed and Al to withhold the information on the Tucker case, so the boys quickly filled Kayla and Brooke in on everything, including their interview at the prison that morning.

"So that creep's name is 'Morishita,' huh?" Brooke murmured. She poked at the discarded sandwich crust on her plate with deliberate calmness, took a sip of tea. "Funny. All those years, I never thought of him having a name."

Ed rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "We can't guarantee that he's the same guy, of course, but he sure sounds like it from your description. And you're the same age as the girls in the file."

Kayla stirred another sugar cube into her teacup, staring thoughtfully into the swirling liquid. "I'm just glad to know he's in prison, and not out there hurting other little kids." Brooke nodded in agreement.

"It must have been hard to go through that," Al offered sympathetically. His own sandwich, ordered strictly out of politeness, sat untouched on the table before him; now he absently slid it over to Ed, who had been eying it hungrily over his own cleared plate. "Do you, um, remember much?"

Both girls were nodding, their faces darkening. "Pretty much all of it," Brooke admitted.

"We both used to have nightmares and flashbacks and stuff," Kayla added, shuddering imperceptibly. "But that hasn't happened for ages." She smiled, the darkness already beginning to lift from her features. "We have a good life now. The past is the past. This—" she gestured her arms expansively to take in the food on the table, the four of them, the city street around them— "is what's real, and it's all that matters." Al and Ed broke into smiles.

Brooke nodded, also smiling, but her eyes were clouded with a touch of lingering anger. "Still, I wouldn't mind _personally_ making that guy pay someday," she muttered, her hands closing into fists on her lap.

Al's attention had been drawn across the street. "Hey Brother, Major Armstrong is headed this way," he observed, indicating the tall, very muscular soldier preparing to cross the road toward them. The man was nearly bald apart from a thick lock of blond hair jutting out from his forehead, with a robust matching mustache. "It looks like he wants to talk to us."

Ed, in the midst of chewing a large bite of his brother's donated sandwich, swallowed and groaned. "Oh great," he muttered, palming his face with his gloved right hand. "Sorry girls, but you're about to be subjected to the military's most annoy—"

"UNCLE ALEX!" Brooke yelled cheerfully, grinning and waving to the officer. He beamed, waved back and quickened his pace. Kayla likewise smiled and waved, while unseen behind the girls, Ed and Al's jaws had nearly dropped to the ground.

"Wait a minute—you're related to _him?"_ Ed gasped.

"Hmm? Yeah, he's my dad's brother," Brooke replied distractedly.

Ed's face was virtually green. "I really should have asked what your last name was," he muttered to himself.

"And how is my lovely niece this fine afternoon?!" Armstrong demanded jovially as he bounded up to their table and swept Brooke into a bearhug.

"Ow…hey come on, Uncle Alex! You'll make me look uncool for my internship," she laughed. He set her back down on her chair and gave her a wink.

"And greetings to you, Miss Kayla," he added, giving the other girl a formal bow. She dipped her head in polite response, giggling. "I sincerely hope your chaperones are treating you ladies well," he added with a glance at Ed and Al.

Brooke shot a teasing glare at Ed before replying. "We're managing," she pronounced.

Ed cleared his throat. "Can we do something for you, Major?"

"Oh yes!" Armstrong held an index finger in the air as if he had just remembered his purpose. "I am here to summon the four of you to Central Command to give Colonel Mustang your report on the Scar incident."

Both girls gasped. "Mr. Armstrong, we can't go there!" Kayla interjected, panic in her voice.

Brooke nodded, eyes wide. "Our parents arranged this internship on purpose to keep us away from Central Command!"

Armstrong frowned gravely. "I understand, little ones," he responded. "Colonel Mustang states that he is aware of your parents' request, but that he has the authority to override it in situations like this." He rubbed his outsized chin thoughtfully. "However, I can assure you that you have nothing to fear. The colonel is a good man." He took a deep breath and struck a muscular pose, adding: "And I will watch over you personally during your visit!"

Brooke's lips lifted in a rueful smile, but her eyes remained serious. "I guess if we refuse, it'll look suspicious," she mumbled miserably. Her eyes met Kayla's, which had gone wide with fear. "We really have to do this, don't we?"

Kayla swallowed and slowly nodded. "I think we do," she whispered.

"Excellent! Let us leave immediately!" Armstrong declared exuberantly, and began marching on ahead as the four teenagers soberly got up from the table.

"You two should tell Colonel Mustang who you are," Al suggested in a hush as they trailed after Armstrong. "His team was the one that tried to rescue you all those years ago. He would want to know that you're OK."

Ed nodded. "Mustang's a jerk sometimes, but he wouldn't turn you in. You can trust him."

"No way," Brooke hissed back, as she and Kayla both shook their heads vehemently. "We can't tell anybody from the military. Even if they're decent people, it's still way too risky."

"We haven't even told Uncle Maes," Kayla agreed.

Ed squinted ahead of them at Armstrong's determinedly marching figure. "But you told him, didn't you? He knows your secret—I can tell."

After a pause, Brooke nodded slowly. "He's kind of a special case," she whispered, the ghost of smile playing at her lips.

"Come along, children!" Armstrong turned and prompted them, interrupting their discussion. "This is no time for lollygagging. We don't want to keep the good colonel waiting!"

-o-o-o-o-

They made it all the way to Mustang's office without incident, at least, with the few soldiers they passed in the corridor barely sparing them a second glance. Now Brooke and Kayla sat perched on chairs in front of his desk, fidgeting while they answered his questions as truthfully as they dared. The brothers stood behind them, Ed with crossed arms and an impatient glare, Al standing still with a polite smile frozen on his armored face. Mustang himself was eying the girls keenly, chin resting on folded hands over propped elbows, his expression inscrutable. Off to the side, Hawkeye silently shuffled papers into a filing cabinet while keeping a discreet eye on the proceedings.

"So you saw a big scary man with a glowing arm attack two highly skilled alchemists, and you just decided to jump in between them?" Mustang asked, polite skepticism in his voice.

"I don't know, we didn't really think about it," Brooke answered, twisting uncomfortably in her chair. "We saw our friends getting their butts kicked, so we tried to help. It was dumb in retrospect, but come on, haven't you ever done anything dumb like that?" A loud snicker erupted from Ed behind her, and even Hawkeye broke into a faint smile.

Mustang coughed. "All right, point taken." A smile flashed across his lips. "But why did he stop his attack? He could have knocked you two over with no trouble, but he didn't."

Kayla, wringing her hands nervously, chimed in. "He said something like, 'you innocents shouldn't be here.' He seemed really frustrated that we were in his way."

Mustang frowned thoughtfully. "So he doesn't want to hurt innocent bystanders." He glanced over at Hawkeye, who nodded as if mentally filing the information away. "I guess he's principled. Unusual for an evil madman," he added.

"Maybe he isn't really evil, then," Brooke asserted, her eyes meeting Mustang's with a faint spark of challenge. She was still smiling, but her hands were unconsciously beginning to clench into fists. "Maybe he thinks he has good reasons for what he's doing."

_Brooke, stop it, _Kayla interjected silently. _You'll make them suspicious!_

Mustang's eyebrows rose, his bearing suddenly turned cool. "That's an interesting opinion," he replied tersely. "I suppose you're feeling generous toward him since he didn't hurt you. But this man kills State Alchemists as a hobby. You'll forgive me if I don't care about his reasons."

_STOP TALKING RIGHT NOW!_ Kayla cut Brooke off silently as she opened her mouth to argue further. Checking her temper, Brooke took a deep breath, then smiled in surrender. "I guess that makes sense," she shrugged, forcing her hands to unclench.

Mustang returned her smile, the tension between them relaxing. "Well. I think that's all the questions I have for you two. You can consider your internship done for the day," he indicated the door with a nod. "But Edward and Alphonse, I still need your report from your interview this morning." Brooke and Kayla got up from their chairs hastily, the boys shooting them sympathetic looks as they took their places.

Outside the office door, Armstrong was standing briskly at attention, waiting for them. "I see you young ladies have survived your interview! You see, what did I tell you? Now I'll escort you safely on your way, and your worries will be ov—"

"Hey, could that be my favorite niece?!" came an exuberant yell from down the hall.

"Oh no," whispered Kayla as Hughes bounded toward them, grinning. "Um, hi Uncle Maes."

"Ha ha, you two decided to disobey your parents and come here after all, didn't you?" Hughes declared, sweeping Kayla into a hug and giving Brooke a friendly thump on the back. "Normally I wouldn't approve, but in this case, I think you did the right thing. It's high time you both spread your wings a little."

Armstrong coughed. "Lieutenant Colonel, sir, the young ladies have been dismissed for the day, and I was just about to escort them out—"

"What? Nonsense! You girls have come this far, you've got to have the grand tour. Come on, I'll take you around." He took each girl by an arm and began to physically pull them down the hall, continuing to talk over their protests and Armstrong's sputtering objections. "Don't worry," he winked at the girls, "I promise I won't tell your parents. Major Armstrong, you're dismissed!"

-o-o-o-o-

"…and this is a picture of little Elysia at the zoo! Isn't she just adorable?!" Hughes clutched the photo of his daughter to his chest and sighed in contentment as the Procurements Department secretary managed a weak smile, trying to hide her annoyance. Over Hughes' shoulder, a blushing Kayla mouthed _I'm sorry_ to the aggravated woman, while Brooke eyed the proceedings with a silent laugh. It was the fifth time they had watched this scene repeat; by now it was clear that the "grand tour" was really just an excuse for Hughes to find new victims.

His efforts had been successful in helping them relax, however. Both girls had been nearly shaking in fear from the moment they'd set foot into Central Command, but with each new department and round of introductions, it became clearer that most of the military personnel were just regular people, wrapped up in mundane paperwork or other tasks, minding their own business. No one showed the slightest bit of suspicion—or even interest—toward the two strange teenage girls in conspicuous hats. It would be stupid to let their guard down completely, of course, but they had stopped feeling as if they were in imminent danger.

"That's, um, really _interesting,_ sir." The secretary managed to interject, her face frozen in a polite smile. "But if you'll excuse me, I have a lot of contracts to finish typing up today…"

"Say no more! We have lots of other departments to visit anyway. Let's go, ladies!" Hughes beamed, looping his arms through the girls' arms and half-dragging them out the door.

"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes!" a breathless young soldier came running up the corridor toward them. "I've been looking all over for you, sir! You're being summoned to another briefing on the Scar investigation. It starts in ten minutes, and the Führer President himself will be in attendance, sir."

"Yikes! OK girls, looks like our tour will have to be cut short." Hughes frowned with disappointment. He glanced at his watch. "Hmm. Major Armstrong should be back in the Investigations Department at this hour. Can you two find your way back there? He can escort you the rest of the way out."

"It's down the main hallway, right? Sure, we can find it." Brooke spoke up confidently. "If we get lost, we'll ask somebody where to go."

"Excellent! You two have fun!" Hughes had rushed off with the other soldier before they had a chance to say a proper goodbye.

"You notice how our uncles keep being made to do things they don't want to do, just because someone higher-ranking orders them to?" Kayla murmured with a quiet shudder.

"Yeah," sighed Brooke. "It makes me doubly glad we didn't tell that Mustang guy who we are. Even if he's decent like everyone says, who knows what would happen if someone ordered him to talk?" They walked together in troubled silence toward the Investigations Department.

It took several minutes and two more passes by the Procurements Department before they admitted they were thoroughly lost. "Come on," Kayla urged Brooke, rolling her eyes. "Let's go ask that secretary for directions. Hopefully she won't throw us out."

"We could threaten her with more pictures of Elysia," Brooke cackled as she opened the door, then stopped short as she nearly ran into Lieutenant Hawkeye, coming out of the office with her arms full of folders.

"What are you two doing here?" the blonde officer asked sharply, more surprised than displeased. "You shouldn't be wandering around Central Command on your own."

"Err, we got lost," Brooke explained. "Could you point us toward the Investigations Department? We're looking for my uncle."

Hawkeye paused, shifting her stack of folders to one hip. "Come on, I'll take you there," she decided. "I'm headed back in that direction."

The three set off in awkward silence, with Hawkeye quietly studying the girls. After a few moments she began to pepper them with polite questions: Are you enjoying your internship so far? Do you attend school? Have you lived in Central City all your lives? The girls gave carefully guarded answers as they walked.

"Here we are," the lieutenant noted as they reached the Investigations Department door. "Major Armstrong can take you the rest of the way out—and oh! I almost forgot to mention," she added. "Colonel Mustang would like you two to start reporting to Central Command in the mornings for the rest of your internship. He wants to make sure you have something worthwhile to do besides getting ditched by Ed." She cocked her head, studying them as if waiting for opposition; but the girls only stared back mutely. "If your parents are unhappy about it, they can always call and speak to him personally," she finished.

"O-OK," Kayla answered, as both girls managed fake smiles.

"See you tomorrow, I guess," Brooke added weakly. Hawkeye smiled, then turned and walked away down the corridor.

"We're doomed," Brooke muttered after she was out of earshot. "If the military doesn't kill us, our parents definitely will." Kayla shuddered in agreement.

The office door beside them banged open as Armstrong appeared, looking joyful. "I see you've survived your ordeal—thank goodness!" He gathered them together into a bearhug that nearly crushed them both, then set them back down. "Come now, let us go. It is the end of the workday, so not only will I escort you out of Central Command, I will personally see that you get all the way home. No arguments!"

Neither girl had any argument to give, only relief as they walked out of the Central Command front door under Armstrong's bulky protective shadow. The sun was just beginning to set as they headed down the sidewalk on the main road toward Kayla's house, the closest of their homes.

"Hey, Uncle Alex," Brooke asked pensively as they walked. "You have to follow orders whether you want to or not, right? So what if someone in the military started to suspect that we were runaway chimeras, and ordered you to tell them? What would you do?"

"_Ridiculous!"_ Armstrong bellowed, stopping in his tracks and flexing his arms. "Not only would I violate orders to protect you both, but I would happily withstand even torture and execution! That is the loyalty that has been handed down in the Armstrong family for generations upon generations!" He cycled through various muscular poses with a serious expression, demonstrating his sincerity.

Neither girl had doubted it, but it reassured them to hear the words, and they were both grinning now. "You're the best, Uncle Alex!" Brooke laughed, briefly hugging one of his massive arms as they resumed walking home. And it was all right. They had survived today, and in spite of everything it had actually been kind of fun. They would worry about tomorrow when it got here.

-o-o-o-o-

"Raven dear, I can't remember the last time we saw our daughter so happy," Rick pronounced over dinner an hour and a half later. Brooke grinned over her plate of stew, pushing pieces of meat and carrots around with her fork; still full from her late lunch, she had barely eaten any of it. She had been regaling her parents with a (carefully edited) recap of her day, including their trip to the library, their discovery that the military was researching chimeras, and how well she and Kayla were getting along with Ed and Al. She was surprised at the excitement in her own voice as she talked: it really _had_ been a fun and adventurous day.

Missing from her account were any mentions of Scar or Central Command. (Armstrong had likewise pledged to say nothing, since as he put it, "No harm befell either of you, and there is no sense upsetting your parents for no reason.") After a lot of soul-searching, she and Kayla had also decided to keep quiet about both Ed and Al's condition and their discovery of Morishita's identity—at least for now—out of fear that their parents would get too nervous and yank them out of the internship. Whatever risks it entailed, both girls were determined to see this week through.

Across the table, Raven was assessing her thoughtfully. "You seem more confident than ever, Brooke." She smiled. "It's still risky, but I'm beginning to think Maes was right—this really is a good experience for you."

Rick cleared his throat humorously. "And it sounds like you've made some new friends. You seem quite taken with this Ed fellow, especially."

"What? No I'm not, uh, we're just friends!" Brooke could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks as her parents chuckled. Not entirely able to hide her own smile (maybe they did have a point), she gave up on pushing the uneaten food around her plate. "Well, anyway, I have another early day tomorrow, so I think I should turn in early." Raven frowned a little at the neglected plate, but nodded her permission. Brooke got up from the table, pausing to give each parent a quick kiss on the cheek before heading up the stairs toward her bedroom.

She paused with her hand on the bedroom doorknob, still able to hear snatches of her parents' conversation wafting up from below. "It's like she grew up a whole year since we saw her this morning," Raven observed, wonder in her voice. "Maybe we _have_ been too overprotective. Maybe we should be encouraging her to be more independent."

"She's fifteen, and she's got a good head on her shoulders," Rick agreed. "There are certainly some risks, but…I agree, we should stop trying to hold her back so much." Brooke grinned to herself as she continued into her room. _This was the best day ever,_ she thought, and at that moment she was bubbling with so much happiness, she wished she could jump up and down on the bed.

-o-o-o-o-

An hour later, with the dinner dishes washed and put away, the parents relaxed in easy chairs in the warm light of the living room, Raven reading up on the days' events in the newspaper while her husband flipped through his latest inventors' magazine.

The peaceful calm was shattered when a bloodcurdling scream began to emanate from their daughter's room.

Fear flooding both their eyes, the adults bolted upstairs. Brooke was standing in front of the bathroom sink, her whole body glowing with a strange purple light. Even more shockingly, the wooden trim around the bathroom mirror and the curtains on the adjacent window were on fire. "Fire extinguisher!" Raven yelled to Rick over the screaming; he disappeared down the hall. "Brooke, honey! What's happening to you?!" Should she try to touch her? Would that make it worse, put the girl in danger? "Talk to me, please!"

Rick reappeared with the fire extinguisher and directed a stream of foam at the flames. Brooke continued to scream, seemingly unaware of her parents' presence, as the purple light around her began to grow and morph, almost seeming to take the shape of a living creature, as if the girl herself were transforming—"No!" Raven shouted, and threw her arms around her daughter, heedless of the risk.

Like a broken spell, the scream stopped and the purple light disappeared.

Raven continued to hold Brooke in a tight hug, shaking with relief as the girl returned to normal. Rick extinguished the last of the flames, threw the fire extinguisher to the floor and wrapped his arms around both of them.

"Mom? Dad?" Brooke asked in a thin, exhausted voice. "I—what did I just do?"

"It's OK, honey," Raven murmured comfortingly, fighting back tears. "You're back with us now. You're safe."

"What happened, sweetheart?" Rick asked, blinking back tears of his own.

"I don't know. I had a flashback to being in the lab when I was little. A bad one, like I haven't had in years. And then it was like I just lost control for a minute." She shuddered visibly. "I heard a voice, too. A really strange one, but kind of comforting. It said, 'My child is growing so fast. You will face many dangers, but you have the strength to survive.'"

"Brooke," interjected Rick in a worried whisper. "Your ears…they're longer now."

Brooke and Raven both gasped, Brooke's hands flying to her wolf's ears as she stared at them in the mirror. Raven craned her neck over her daughter's shoulder. "Your tail too," she confirmed, her voice husky with anxiety.

Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I don't know what just happened. But it's over now. Mom, Dad, I'm OK. _Really."_

Behind them, the phone began to ring. Rick hurried to answer it, while Raven sat on the edge of the bathtub and watched as Brooke bent over the sink and splashed water on her face. Despite everything, the girl was calm, her new-found confidence intact. "I'm sorry about the fire, Mom. I'll buy some new curtains out of my allowance."

"Don't worry about _that,"_ Raven responded impatiently. "I just want to make sure you're safe. Maybe we should stop this internship—"

"No, Mom!" Brooke lowered her towel from her face and turned to her mother, eyes wide and determined. "We can't stop now! It'll look suspicious, and and we _need_ to finish it. So we can graduate, and—for lots of other reasons." She blinked, her expression pleading. "Please, Mom. I _promise_ I'm OK."

Rick walked back in carrying the phone, handset in one hand and cradle and the other, its long cord stretching from the hallway. "It happened to Kayla too," he said soberly, handing the phone over to Brooke. "She wants to talk to you, then Lavina needs to talk to Raven."

-o-o-o-o-

The girls spoke for half an hour, comparing notes on their experiences. Brooke was still rattled by the night's events, but Kayla was genuinely frightened. She had not heard any reassuring voice. Brooke did her best to comfort her friend.

"Do you feel like it happened because we were happy and excited? Like something inside of us said, 'OK, you're in a good place, now you're strong enough for this new thing to happen'?

Through the phone, Kayla paused thoughtfully before answering. "Yes," she finally replied. "When you put it that way, that's exactly like how feels." She drew in a breath, then let it out in a sigh. "And I feel like whatever happened, it's over now."

"We'll just need to be careful," Brooke agreed. "It'll be harder to hide our ears and tails now. But we'll figure it out, especially for the internship—"

"Kayla, I need to talk to Raven now!" Lavinia prompted from the background.

"See you tomorrow," Brooke signed off quickly, then handed the phone to her mother.

Brooke walked back to her bedroom, sitting on the edge of her bed and fidgeting nervously as Raven spoke on the phone in the background, pacing back and forth in the hallway as the phone cord trailed behind her. Rick emerged from the stairway and joined Brooke. "Mr. Greene next door heard you scream, and came to the door to make sure we were OK. I told him you saw a mouse," he filled her in with a wink. Brooke grinned in relief at her father's understanding. He gave her a kiss on the top of her head before moving over to the window, taking a seat on the windowsill and staring out at the night sky while they waited for the mothers to deliver their verdict.

"I'm surprising myself just as much as you, Lavinia," Raven was saying from the hallway, as Brooke's heart began to beat faster with hope. "But the girls are right. Pulling out now _would_ look suspicious, and they would just have to do it all over again later anyway. The girls seem to have some instinct about what happened, and I think they're handling it." There was a pause as she listened to Lavinia's response. "Of course it's scary! But Maes is right, the girls are going to have to learn to survive on their own someday. And as for their unpredictable emotions—well, chimera or not, that's pretty much what it's like to be a girl growing up, remember?"

There was another long pause, and Raven stopped pacing and settled in Brooke's doorway so the whole family could hear. "Then we're agreed?" she asked. "All right then, we'll talk again tomorrow." She hung up the phone, locked eyes with Brooke and smiled. "It's settled, honey. As long as nothing else strange happens, your internship will continue."


	7. Awakening

Chapter 7: Awakening

_Seventeen Years Ago  
>Dahlia District, Ishval<em>

Jihan peered around the trunk of a palm tree, studying the young man and woman who stood talking on the hill a little ways away. It was springtime, which meant the normally sparse scrub fields bordering the Ishvalan Desert were covered by a carpet of green grass that glinted in the afternoon sun. Wrapped up in one another's presence, the couple didn't notice the teenager watching them.

"I just don't understand why you have to go," the woman sighed. A breeze ruffled her shoulder-length brunette hair, pushing a few strands over her fine cheekbones; she absently brushed them away. "I understand that you want to help our people. But—studying alchemy, Dael! You know it's forbidden by Ishvala." Her large ruby eyes stared downward, her hands playing with the fringe of the brown wrap that lay over her long beige dress, a traditional Ishvalan striped scarf looped across one shoulder and knotted at the waist. Watching from behind his tree, Jihan's own hands unconsciously plucked at his identical striped scarf, although his was belted around the waist in the men's style over a loose-fitting beige shirt and pants.

"I worry that God will punish you," the woman continued sadly. "And…I'll miss you."

With a somber smile, the brown-haired man next to her stepped forward and lifted her chin with his hand. "It'll be all right, Anahi. I promise." He kissed her forehead. "Believe me, I don't want to leave you either." He put his arms around her, letting her head tilt forward to rest against his chest. Unlike Anahi and Jihan he wore modern clothing, a button-down white shirt over dark gray slacks; and in contrast to Jihan's traditional short hair, he had let his grow in long pieces that hung over his face and framed his wire-rimmed glasses. If not for his telltale dark skin and red eyes, one might not even know he was Ishvalan. And to go so far as to study alchemy…! Jihan felt his heart beat anxiously; he too worried that God would punish his older brother.

"But I'm a lot less worried about God's punishment than the Amestrian military's," Dael went on. "We've all heard the stories—things are getting bad in the border districts. Rumor has it there'll be war by harvest time." Anahi turned to look up at him, her worried eyes meeting his. "Learning alchemy might be the only thing that keeps us safe. So I _have_ to go," he finished. "It's for our future, Anahi."

She hesitated, then finally nodded. "All right," she conceded. "But not forever, all right? Swear that you'll come back to me."

"I swear," he answered without hesitation, leaning in to press his lips against hers. Watching from behind his tree, Jihan felt an intense stab of jealousy, quickly followed by a rush of guilt.

When their lips finally parted, Dael reached into a pocket and pulled out an object—a necklace, Jihan made out squinting over the short distance. Silver, with a circular pendant set with a clear blue stone whose facets sparkled in the sunlight. "I got you a gift," Dael told Anahi lightly. "Keep it as a good luck charm, so that even when I'm gone, you won't forget about me."

"I could never forget you, dummy," she teased, smiling with pleasure as she slid the necklace around her neck; but her smile soon faltered and she sagged against Dael, pressing her face into his shoulder. His arms wound around her waist.

"You'll take care of Jihan for me, too, right?" he continued. "That way neither of you has to be alone while I'm gone."

"Of course I will," Anahi mumbled into his shoulder. "He's like a little brother to me too, you know."

His face burning, Jihan decided he had seen enough. He turned away and walked quickly back toward their village, a hundred emotions roiling his mind. After all, they didn't need a _little_ brother hanging around, did they? And Dael apparently didn't need either of them if he was so happy to leave. But maybe that was just fine; maybe once his older brother was gone, Anahi would finally see Jihan as the _man_ he was growing into, and she would love him instead—but no, that would be wrong, unfair to Dael. And...and what if Ishvala really did punish his brother for the sin of learning alchemy? Jihan's hands gripped his head as he walked—when had everything become so _complicated?! _

But a few moments later he took a deep breath, clearing his mind in meditation as the priests had taught him. Ishvala took no pleasure in anger or jealousy in the hearts of his people. Before long Jihan was calmer, the petty emotions of the day receding far away as he headed for home.

All except one. A small sliver of anxiety had worked its way into his heart, and it was one he couldn't seem to dislodge: Would war really come to Ishval?

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Central City Military Command_

"You really don't have to worry. It doesn't show at all," Al reassured Brooke and Kayla as they walked down the street towards Central Command. Both girls wore new, looser clothing to conceal their newly longer tails. Kayla kept smoothing her long flowered skirt self-consciously, convinced that her feathered tail would protrude at any moment.

"The only thing that looks suspicious is the way you both keep fidgeting," Ed pronounced, waving his arm in airy dismissal. "Just relax already."

Brooke, caught in the act of compulsively smoothing her beret—at least their knit hats had stretched to cover their longer ears—halted and shot him a glare. "Oh sure. _You_ try relaxing while walking around with a tail tied to one leg! I'd love to see that." She gestured at the right leg of her baggy jeans. Raven had devised that solution, donating an unopened pair of nylon stockings to the cause; it was effective at keeping their tails secured, but the new sensation felt distinctly weird.

"Oh please, you think automail is fun to wear? Try having your ports reattached sometime and we'll talk!" Ed shot back. Trailing behind the pair, Kayla and Al sighed in unison.

Ten minutes of bickering later, the four reported in to Mustang's office as ordered. They stood fidgeting awkwardly in front of his desk while he took his time surveying the monthly inspection and repair schedule. "You could have picked something for us to do before we got here," Ed complained, arms crossed over his chest.

"Fullmetal, I have a whole team to command and more important things to do than think up busywork—"

"So you admit it's busywork!"

"—to keep you from blundering into trouble." Roy thrust the list toward Ed. "You know, I _could_ send you to inspect the Southwest Sewage Plant, but I'll give you a break out of sympathy to your guests. You can go to the Central Water Supply Depot instead. They've reported some minor cracks in the reservoir that could stand to be repaired..." He trailed off as the door of the outer office slammed open and a familiar enthusiastic voice demanded entrance.

Riza poked her head through the door to Roy's inner office. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes to see you, sir." Hughes himself barged through the door before Roy had time to reply, but first made a beeline for Kayla and swept her into a hug.

"I'm so glad you're OK! You too, Brooke—why didn't you girls _tell_ me you ran into that Ishvalan serial killer yesterday?! You could have been killed! And there I was dragging you around on a tour of Central Command like a dolt."

Kayla shrugged and smiled awkwardly. "Well, you seemed like you were having such a good time, we didn't want to spoil it. And there's no way Mr.—um, Scar would have hurt us. We're _fine,_ Uncle Maes."

Hughes sighed and released her from the hug. "All right. I presume you didn't tell your parents, then?" The girls shook their heads. "I suppose that's for the best," he sighed. "I won't say anything to them either."

Roy cleared his throat. "Was there something you needed, Hughes?" He gestured towards the door, where two of Hughes' subordinates had entered and were standing at attention.

"Oh! Right, I almost forgot. This is Lieutenant Maria Ross," Hughes indicated the woman with short dark hair who stood at rigid attention on the right, "and Lieutenant Denny Brosh." He pointed to the young man with longish sandy brown hair standing in a somewhat more relaxed manner on the left. "Ed and Al, due to the continuing threat from Scar, they're going to be your bodyguards until further notice."

"What?" both brothers cried in unison. "No way!" Ed protested. "We can't have all these people following us around! We've got things to do—"

"Yes, important things, you've told me," Hughes chuckled. "But you don't have to worry about that right now. For your own protection, you're going to be confined to your quarters while we search for Scar. _Führer's orders,"_ he finished cheerfully, clamping down on protests from both Ed and Roy.

Roy sighed down at the paper in his hands, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the wastebasket at his feet. "So much for this month's schedule. Lieutenant Hawkeye, you will kindly note that it's not _my_ fault we're running behind this time." Riza, who had walked in with an armload of folders, surrendered a tiny smile of amusement as she dropped the files onto his desk. "Enjoy ditching work, Fullmetal. I envy you," Roy frowned in dismay at the huge stack of paperwork.

Ed, fuming, shot him a glare. "Well unlike your lazy ass, I don't WANT to sit around and do nothing!"

"Um, I have a suggestion," Al interjected politely. "Why don't we use this time to take another look at Tucker's research? We went through it pretty quickly when we were worried about finding Nina. Maybe we'll find something we missed."

Ed exhaled, his scowl lessening. "Yeah, OK," he nodded. "I guess we can do that."

"Hmm," Roy replied, resting his chin on his hand thoughtfully. "All right, you can take another look. Just make sure I get it back in one piece." He took a key from his pocket, opened a drawer and pulled out the thick folder Ed had thrown onto his desk the previous morning. "And," he cast a glance at Brooke and Kayla, "this is confidential military information, so no one else but Al sees it. Understood?" Ed frowned, but gave him a grudging nod.

"Um, what about our internship?" Kayla asked gingerly.

"Yeah, what do we do now?" Brooke echoed.

"I'll find you something to read," Riza offered. She stepped to the bookcase behind Roy's desk, running a finger over the titles until she found two to her liking. "Here you go. These are pretty basic, but since you don't have a military background, I think they'll be a good place to start. I'll quiz you on the contents tomorrow." She handed the books to Kayla; one read _Combat Skills, Tactics, and Techniques _and the other _In Pursuit of Military Excellence._ The girls smiled and thanked the Lieutenant while groaning inwardly.

"Yes! It's all settled," Hughes declared with a relieved grin. "Now I can rest easy knowing you girls are safe, just like I promised your parents."

"Oh, I don't know about that," Roy teased. "Going home with a couple of boys they barely know? Sounds pretty dangerous to me."

"Shut up, Colonel Bastard!" Ed exploded, his cheeks bright red. The girls were both blushing scarlet, and if Al had possessed a human face, his would surely have been doing the same.

Now thoroughly alarmed, Hughes pulled a flustered Ross and Brosh into a headlock. "Lieutenants," he ordered with a growl that was only half-joking, "your orders are to keep an _EXTREMELY CLOSE_ eye on the Elric brothers!"

o-o-o-o

Half an hour later, the four teenagers were settling into Ed and Al's room in the military dorm. The second-floor room was sparsely furnished with twin beds, a sofa and a coffee table, but the accommodations were far more comfortable than the girls had expected. "You even have room service?" Kayla said in surprise as a man in a bellhop uniform carried in a tray of sandwiches. "This place is like a hotel!"

"Yeah, well, it's the VIP quarters," Ed answered, rubbing the back of his head in embarrassment. The bellhop set the tray down on the coffee table, then bowed slightly to Ed before disappearing through the door. "High-ranking officers stay here when they travel. Since I'm a State Alchemist, and we're never in town for very long, we get to stay here too." The girls gingerly took a seat on the sofa while Ed and Al planted themselves on the floor across the table. Ed helped himself to a thick roast beef sandwich and motioned for the girls to dig in.

Before long the sandwich tray had been reduced to a heap of crumbs and shoved aside to make way for Tucker's notes, which Ed and Al spread out on the table and pored over intently. Brooke and Kayla, pleasantly stuffed and in no mood to move, slouched on the sofa and listened with quiet interest as the boys talked—after all, since Tucker had worked with Morishita, some of the notes could have been about them. But the brothers might as well have been speaking a different language.

"Did you notice that his calcination technique was really unusual, Brother?" Al observed over a page scrawled with diagrams. "He achieved thermal decomposition and phase transition, but he didn't remove any volatile fraction."

"That can't be right," frowned Ed, dropping the pages he was holding and confiscating Al's. "Whoa, you're not kidding—his volatilization reaction is completely atypical! How did we miss that the first time?"

Brooke turned to her friend, who shrugged. _Alchemists,_ Kayla offered silently. The only other person they'd ever heard use words like that was Morishita, and they'd never understood what he was talking about either. It was clear they weren't going to learn anything by eavesdropping. The boys seemed to have forgotten that they were there, so Kayla sighed, leaned down to the floor and picked up the books Hawkeye had given them, handing one to Brooke.

"I can't study scrunched up like this when I'm so full," Brooke muttered lazily. Since they had always been homeschooled at her house, she was used to the luxury of stretching out on her own bed. "Hey. Ed and Al, I'm borrowing one of your beds."

"Sure," Al waved absently without looking up from his papers. "Make yourselves at home." Ed, intently scribbling into a small notebook, seemed not even to hear her. With another shrug toward Kayla, she marched to the left-hand of the two single beds (Ed's? Al's? Did Al even use a bed?), sprawled out and opened her book. After a few moments' hesitation, Kayla took the bed on the right.

Brooke opened the book and began to read: _"Armed forces ashore, aloft, and afloat seldom do as well as they should unless skilled strategists think. Men and women of action who are organized and trained to employ technologically superlative weapons systems under adverse conditions…" _Oh man, this was going to be boring. Was Lieutenant Hawkeye really going to quiz them on this or was that a joke? _"…Quantitative and qualitative considerations include military roles, functions, and missions, active and reserve force postures…"_ Brooke rubbed her eyes drowsily. Hawkeye couldn't _make_ them do this, right? Ed was the one in charge of their internship. _"…manpower, materiel, education, training, infrastructure, technologies, modernization programs, industrial capacities…"_ On the other hand, she didn't want to make a bad impression on the older woman. She had to admit that Hawkeye was pretty cool—the way she'd knocked Mustang on his butt in front of everyone during the fight with Scar had been awesome. _"…Efforts to satisfy present demands when resources are scarce may sacrifice future proficiency_…" Even if she was apparently determined to torture them.

Yawning until her eyes watered, Brooke managed to fight her way through the first chapter, then took a break to stretch; over on the other bed, she saw Kayla similarly struggling to stay awake. It wasn't that they were averse to studying. She and Kayla both learned quickly and were well above their grade level in homeschool. But with everything that had happened the night before, neither girl had gotten much sleep, and having just eaten a big lunch wasn't helping. The boys meanwhile had fallen silent, engrossed in their own reading. _We could just rest our eyes for a few minutes, right?_ Brooke egged her friend on silently. _Ed and Al won't mind._

Kayla shot her a mischievous smile. _I doubt Ed and Al would even notice,_ she chuckled._ Just for a little while, though, right?_

_Definitely. Then we'll get right back to studying,_ Brooke declared, lying back down on the bed and closing her eyes. The rest of the dorm was quiet, and now that the boys had stopped talking, the only audible sounds were the soft ticking of Ed's pocket watch and the distant, soothing hum of traffic outside th window. It wasn't long before they both drifted into sound sleep.

o-o-o-o

The brothers were so wrapped up in rereading Tucker's notes that it wasn't until the light became too dim to read by that either of them noticed the sun had set. In their haste to get back to looking for Nina, they had really missed a lot of detail the first time through, Ed mused as he absently snapped on a small lamp. The notes were abstract and highly technical, so much that he had to stop a few times and remind himself that the research subjects had been _people,_ just like the ones who (a quick look up revealed) were sleeping soundly in the room next to them. Even though Ed knew they were fine today, the thought still made his blood boil, made him twice as determined to find a way to undo the evil man's work.

To that end, his attention had landed on something interesting, and now he jabbed a finger at a map spread out on the table in front of them. "This has got to be the military lab he talked about, Al. It's right next to the main prison." He kept his voice low to avoid waking Brooke and Kayla. "Tucker only mentioned it once in passing, but he said they did research into the Philosopher's Stone there."

Al nodded gravely. The Philosopher's Stone was the legendary pinnacle of alchemy, a source of unimaginable power. If they could find or create one—if it even really existed—they could finally return their bodies to normal. They had been searching relentlessly for three years; it was the whole reason Ed had joined the military. "But Lieutenant Ross said that lab's been abandoned for twenty years, Brother," Al pointed out, studying the map. The building Ed pointed to was labeled _Laboratory 5 (Closed)._

"If it's really been empty for that long, why wouldn't it have been knocked down?" Ed shook his head. "If the military's really trying to create a Philosopher's Stone, they wouldn't want to advertise that. What better place to do it than a supposedly abandoned building?" He met Al's eyes appealingly. "Wanna go check it out?"

Al grinned. "Yes. But what about everyone else…?" His metal arms gestured, taking in their sleeping interns and the bodyguards who waited out of sight in the hallway.

Ed shot him a smirk. "We'll be back before anybody misses us." As they boys stood, Ed clapped his hands and transmuted a rope out of the rug in the middle of the floor. He paused long enough to scrawl down a note and leave it on the table; then the pair headed for the window.

o-o-o-o

A few minutes later, the man known as Scar quietly clambered over the windowsill into the dimly-lit dorm room. He had just watched the two Elric brothers climb out of this very same window and disappear into the night; and while he fully intended to catch up with them and follow wherever they were going, he burned with curiosity to know exactly who they were sneaking away _from,_ and why. Their unoccupied room might also contain useful information on the military's activities. He moved to the low table in the center of the room, leafing through the papers the boys had left behind. More alchemic gibberish, he recognized with a scowl.

A faint rustle to his left startled him. As his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he realized in alarm that a motionless form lay in each of the room's two beds. Had the military set a trap for him? No, if these were soldiers they would have attacked by now. Scar inched silently toward one of the sleeping figures and peered down. Her face was turned away from him, but he instantly recognized the familiar head of bright auburn hair lying against the pillow, her knit fedora knocked askew to reveal a few blue feathers. He knew without looking that the other bed would contain her wolf-eared companion. _Again!_ he thought through gritted teeth. Why were these girls associating so intimately with alchemist blasphemers?!

But before he could ponder the situation further, he heard an odd crash and scrape of metal outside the building. He decided to investigate; leaving the room was a better option anyway, given that he might be discovered if one of the girls were to wake. He leapt from the window in a smooth arc, landing gracefully on the short grass of the lawn below. The noise was coming from the alley in back of the building.

The alley was nearly dark, its only source of illumination a few torch lamps mounted on poles along the walls, which cast eerie flickering shadows on the gravel-strewn ground. In the dimness he spotted two bizarre people: a tall, shapely woman in a form-fitting black gown and long black gloves standing with her back to him; and a short stout man whose massive mouth was literally engulfing a steel trash bin.

"Gluttony," the woman's voice was crooning to the man, firmly but with a touch of amusement. "Stop eating the trash or you'll spoil your appetite."

"Sorry, Lust," the ill-formed man belched. "I was so hungry." Drool ran like rivulets from his large mouth; Scar felt his stomach churn at the sight. It was more than disgust: The hair on the back of his neck was rising, his muscles tensing, and beneath his sleeve his right arm was beginning to glow. Every part of him registered these individuals as a threat.

"Who are you people? What you doing here?" he demanded.

Languidly, the woman turned to face Scar—and his heart stopped. Surely it was just an illusion, shadows thrown by the torches amid the blackness. But she looked like—she looked like—

_A carpet of green grass glinted in the afternoon sun. A breeze ruffled the woman's shoulder-length brunette hair as she absently brushed a few strands from her cheekbones._ _Her large ruby eyes stared, her hands playing with the traditional Ishvalan striped scarf looped across one shoulder._ _She smiled with pleasure as she slid the necklace around her neck._

"Anahi," he whispered, his voice taut. "…But you couldn't be…That's just not possible..."

"Hmm? What do you want, scarred man?" Her eyes swept appraisingly over his body, a lascivious gleam in her eyes, and that alone shattered the illusion, snapping him back to the present. Her resemblance to Anahi might be uncanny, but this was a very different woman. A potentially very dangerous one.

"It's that Ishvalan!" the stout man burbled, beginning to hop from side to side in excitement. "The one who's covered in blood!" Scar stiffened; whoever these people were, they already knew who he was.

"You intend to involve yourself with the Fullmetal pipsqueak, don't you?" the woman continued in a disapproving lilt, arms folded over her ample chest. "We can't have that. We need him to pursue the Philosopher's Stone." Her eyes narrowed and locked onto Scar's right arm, which had begun to pulse more insistently. "Such a pity. If you'd stayed out of our way, you could have kept that arm." She smiled, her red lips gleaming wickedly, and held up her right hand. Her gloved fingers began to elongate impossibly, her fingernails sharpening into blade-like shapes. In the next instant she was lunging toward him, fingernails flashing.

Scar turned rapidly to the side so that the woman zoomed past him. She turned on her heel just as quickly, but instead of attacking him again she merely smiled. The Ishvalan whipped around just in time to avoid having Gluttony's huge mouth close around him. He leapt out of reach, sliding on the gravel before jumping forward and punching the beast to the ground. He knew now that he was in real danger of not only being injured, but potentially eaten. He pushed up his sleeve, allowing his arm to reach its full power as it crackled with red lightning. He'd go for the kill.

"You're homunculi, aren't you?" the Ishvalan challenged them through gritted teeth. "Artificial humans created by alchemy. My brother once told me of such abominations. I will send you back to God!"

Lust and Gluttony didn't react; instead they seemed merely amused by both his knowledge and his display of power. Gluttony tugged on Lust's dress. "Can I eat it?" his stomach growled.

"No time now. We need to finish what we came here for." She cast her eyes up at the dormitory—just what were they after? "Next time," she promised soothingly.

The stout man's eyes followed her glance. "Barbeque?" he pleaded hopefully.

"Of course," Lust replied indulgently, reaching up to grasp the nearest torch lamp.

"Stop," Scar barked authoritatively. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Taking care of a problem," she shrugged. Now it was Scar's turn to lunge at her—but Lust had already slipped from his reach, and both she and Gluttony were ascending the side of the dormitory in bounding leaps.

They reached the peak of the building's roof, and with a vicious grin she dropped the torch she'd been clutching. It spiraled down, bouncing against the rooftop as it fell, its flames gripping wildly for purchase with each collision. Inch by inch the fire began to spread. Their work done, the two strangers disappeared beyond the horizon of the roofline.

A heartbeat elapsed as Scar debated whether to pursue them—but the fire was spreading rapidly. He cared little for any military personnel that might be trapped inside the burning structure, but the sleeping girls in the Elrics' room were still innocents under his protection. In another moment he was scaling the building towards their window.

o-o-o-o

"Brosh. Wake _up!_" The lieutenant, dozing in a chair with his head propped against the wall, snapped awake as Ross shook his shoulder insistently. "I smell smoke—something's burning!" She turned to bang on the Elrics' door as he jumped up to follow her; getting no answer, they burst into the room together.

"They're not here!" she exclaimed in horror. Rushing to the window, they found the rope leading to the lawn below, where a large man with his back to them carried a limp figure in each arm—_Scar?!_ "Go get help!" she yelled to Brosh, who ran from the room to find reinforcements as a fire alarm began to blare. Ross pulled out her gun and aimed it at Scar, now setting the unconscious bundles—Brooke and Kayla by the looks of them—on the ground. "Stop!" Ross yelled at the man, trying not to cough in the smoky air. "Move away from the girls and put your hands up—NOW!"

Scar's attention snapped toward the window, his face curling into a scowl. In a flash he was on the move. Ross emptied her pistol in his direction, unable to tell if she was hitting her target; below her on the lawn Brosh and four other soldiers spilled out of the building and also began firing, but Scar continued running, disappearing behind the nearest building as the soldiers pursued. On the ground the girls had awakened and were looking around in frantic confusion, while off the distance sirens began to wail as fire engines headed in their direction. Ross began to cough uncontrollably as the smoke thickened around her: time to go. She made a last visual sweep of the room and spied the files on the table, pausing just long enough to grab them before she ran from the room and down the stairwell that led outside.

o-o-o-o

"What the hell just happened?!" Brooke exclaimed in confusion as the girls rubbed her eyes and stared up at the burning dormitory. Around them the other occupants of the building (the bellhop who had brought them sandwiches, a few cooks and housekeepers, a grumpy brigadier general) had spilled out onto the lawn and were likewise gaping at the destruction. Both girls quickly reached up to straighten their hats—luckily they were still on their heads. "How did we get out here? Where are Ed and Al?"

"No idea," murmured Kayla, yanking her fedora down over her feathers. Her voice held worry. "You don't think they could be in there, do you?" They were a safe distance away from the building, but heat from the intense fire fanned over them, the snap of burning timber punctuating their words.

Lieutenant Ross, breathless and coughing over an armload of papers, ran up to them. "They're not inside. I was hoping you two could tell me where they went." Across the lawn, Lieutenant Brosh and four other soldiers were running back from the other direction, winded and wearing discouraged frowns.

"We lost Scar," Brosh reported to Ross, whose face fell. "No sign of the Elrics either."

"Wait, Scar?" Brooke interrupted. "That guy was here?"

Ross scowled. "He must have set the fire as a distraction. He tried to kidnap both of you."

"No way—he would never do that!" Kayla objected. The soldiers turned to look at her in surprise. She coughed. "We were, um, studying his case as part of our internship. It doesn't fit his profile," she continued importantly. The soldiers shrugged; profiling apparently wasn't their department. (_Nice save,_ came Brooke's voice in her head.)

"Do you have any idea where the Elrics might have gone?" Ross continued urgently, shifting her weight to keep hold of the pile of papers in her arms as the girls shook their heads. A small scrap of paper fluttered from the top of the pile to the ground, and Brooke bent to pick it up.

The writing was almost illegible—definitely Ed's. "It says 'Going to check out Laboratory 5,'" she read aloud.

"OK—come on Brosh, we need to move!" Ross barked. She turned to the lowest-ranking soldier in the group and thrust the bundle of papers into his arms. "Return these to Colonel Mustang immediately. The rest of you come with Brosh and me. We need to report this to Major Armstrong before we follow Ed and Al."

"Yes ma'am!" the soldiers replied with salutes, save for the one flustered man with his arms full of papers. Behind them, a pair of wailing fire trucks rounded the corner and screeched to a halt in front of the burning dormitory; firefighters poured out and began attaching a large hose to the nearest hydrant.

Ross turned back to Brooke and Kayla, raising her voice above the clamor. "You two go home. There's no need to worry—I'm sure the boys will be fine. That's an order."

There was a pause. "OK," Kayla answered.

"Sure," replied Brooke. _Like hell,_ she added silently to her friend, who met her eyes and gave a nod of agreement.

-o-o-o-o-

As soon as the soldiers were out of sight, Brooke grabbed Kayla's wrist and pulled her into a run. "Come on, we need to follow them! If Scar was here, he must still be after Ed. We have to stop him!"

"Where are we going? We don't even know where this Laboratory 5 is!" Kayla protested as they ran down the street, the glow of the burning building receding into the dark behind them.

"But we know which direction they went in." Brooke pointed ahead of them.

"What are you talking about?" Kayla demanded.

Brooke stopped so abruptly that Kayla nearly crashed into her, a look of surprise crossing her face. "I don't know." she admitted. "I didn't even think about it. I can just _tell _which way they went." She turned in a circle, inhaling deeply. "It's like, I can smell them." Under the dim streetlights, her face reddened. "Er, it's not like they have BO or anything! I couldn't even describe it if tried. I just know their scent." She closed her eyes, breathed deeply again. "It's clearer now that we're away from the smoke. They're about two miles down this road," she pronounced.

"Wow…OK. That's really weird, but I guess I believe you," Kayla replied in wonder. "But we can't keep going down this road. It's blocked up ahead."

"What?" Brooke squinted into the darkness. The road was open as far as she could see. "Where?"

"Right there, about a mile ahead, see?" Kayla pointed. Brooke was staring at her, and now a look of surprise crossed Kayla's face. "Wait, that's really far! How come I can see that far in the dark?!"

Brooke's face split into a grin. "Kayla, listen to us! We've never been able to do this stuff before." She smoothed her beret thoughtfully. "I think…maybe whatever happened to us last night did more than just make our ears and tails grow. I think it must have heightened our senses too."

Kayla rubbed her forehead. "OK. Wow. This is either really cool, or kind of scary." Then she shook her head. "But we don't have time to think about it now—Ed and Al could still be in trouble!"

"Right—let's go!" Brooke concurred, and the two girls took off at a run once more, determined to save their friends.


	8. Raw Materials

Chapter 8: Raw Materials

_Thirteen Years Ago  
>Dr. Morishita's Laboratory<br>Central City Industrial District_

Tests Subjects A and B were both shivering. The two-year-old girls always shivered when the man took them out of their tubes, dripping wet and dressed only in thin underwear, and dropped them onto the cold metal examination tables. Once in awhile he would notice, pausing long enough to grab them each a blanket from the shelf by the door. Most of the time, like now, he didn't bother.

They were also starving, just like always. The welcome scent of food wafted over to them from a box on a table next to the shelf_._ It was a familiar signal: the man never brought food into the lab unless he was going to perform experiments. And experiments meant pain, often a lot of pain. But after the pain would come the food, so it would be all right in the end. Such was the cycle of their lives, the only existence the two of them had ever known.

Today was unusual in one way, though: this time the man wasn't alone.

He was grinning nervously, thin white hands flitting to stroke his greasy shoulder-length black hair as he led the stranger around the lab. "The nutrient bath maintains a baseline level of biological vitality, though I do supplement with solid food for psychological conditioning," he explained. He paused to lick his colorless lips between his stringy mustache and goatee. "I've made great progress with my experimentation. Great progress indeed."

The stranger was large, tall and barrel-chested with a huge neck, tan skin, a smooth hairless head, and a very thick black mustache that stuck out comically to either side of his face. He was dressed all in blue, arms folded over his chest beneath an unsmiling face. "You may proceed with your demonstration, Doctor," he ordered.

"Very well." The black-haired man moved over to the lab table where Test Subject A lay. He had not taken the time to strap the girls down, which gave them hope that today's experiments wouldn't be _too_ painful. "You'll be a good little girl for me in front of our guest, won't you?" he murmured as he produced a piece of chalk from a pocket of his lab coat and began to draw symbols on the table surface around her. His thin lips twisted into an odd shape that was probably meant to resemble a smile.

_Yuck,_ A complained silently to Test Subject B. _He's pretending to be nice again._ She turned her head toward her companion and made a cross-eyed face that neither man could see.

B hid a furtive smile._ He's gross! Hey, why do you think that other man's here?_

_I don't kn—_A's words cut off with a gasp as the transmutation kicked in, surrounding her with a faint purple light that slowly pulsed brighter. As it brightened her body stiffened, continuing until her back was arched in pain and her gasps gave way to a silent cry that only B could hear. On her own examination table, B lay tensed with her small hands curled into fists, wishing she could do something to help her friend. But even though the girls weren't strapped down, they both knew from experience that fighting back would only cause them more pain in the long run. The black-haired man was a lot bigger and stronger than them, and the new man with him was even bigger.

"This is just the first step, but as you can see, I've managed to stabilize the chiral atoms," the black-haired man bragged as the purple glow faded and A's body slowly relaxed.

_Are you OK?_ B asked worriedly when was over.

_Yeah,_ A replied, her inner voice thin and exhausted.

"The key was keeping the energy barrier small enough for interconversion to occur. Which was no small feat, I might add," the man continued, moving over to B's table and repeating the same procedure. Now it was her turn to be engulfed in the painful transmutation and cry out silently while A watched, equally helpless. The pain was so intense that B's breath caught in her chest. As she writhed on the table, she glimpsed her friend's brow furled in anger, her lips clenched in a grim line.

"There are subtle variations in the resonance of the energy fields that should result in interesting differences in their abilities over time," the black-haired man added dispassionately. After another minute the purple light faded and B went limp, finally able to breathe normally. "Good girl," he added as an afterthought, patting her absently on the arm. "You both did very well."

_Are you all right?_ asked A, still frowning. B managed a nod.

"You've made impressive progress, Doctor," the bald man affirmed. "I'm eager to hear about the military applications of your research."

"I'm afraid that's still a ways off in the future, Colonel Grand. But these results prove that my theory is sound! With time and further refinement, I'll be able to transfer the technique to adult subjects—including your soldiers."

Shivering on their examination tables, the test subjects waited, exhausted but impatient, for the men to finish talking. _Hey you! _A frowned at the oblivious figures._ It's time to give us food now, you big jerks!_ Despite her weariness, B grinned.

"I'll remind you that the military is on a schedule," the bald man continued. He surveyed the lab thoughtfully, his eyes passing over the girls as if they were merely part of the lab equipment. "Take the time you need, Doctor—just make sure you have results for us by the end of it."

"I live to serve my country." The black-haired man dipped his head in a submissive bow. "Is there anything further you'd like to see today?"

"I've seen what I need. You may escort me out." The two men turned and headed toward the door.

A sat up on her table and glared indignantly at the men's receding backs. _HEY DUMMIES! _she yelled silently. _What about our food?! We'll be really mad if you forget!_

_Yeah! _B added, unable to suppress a giggle.

As the black-haired man reached the door, he paused as if he'd remembered something, then picked up the box of food and a pair of folded blankets and tossed them onto the floor between the examination tables. "You have permission to eat," he informed the girls. The bald man regarded him with one eyebrow cocked. "A schedule of rewards encourages cooperation from the subjects," the black-haired man explained.

A was already scrambling down from the table toward the box, while B sat up slowly, hesitating long enough to make eye contact with the bald man. For a moment he stared back at her, cold amusement in his eyes. Then he turned on his heel and strode out the door, leaving the black-haired man hurrying to catch up with him. The door swung closed behind them with a firm _click_ of its lock.

B slid down from her table and joined A, busy pulling sandwiches from the box; she thrust one into B's hands while cramming the other into her own mouth. It didn't occur to either girl to wonder what kind of sandwich they were eating. The slices of white bread were filled with a layer of smooth tan paste that was sweet and salty, with a sweeter purple layer on top of that. It scarcely mattered what it was; food was just food, and any time they could get some it was a good thing.

Still shivering, the girls wrapped themselves in the blankets and huddled together for warmth as they ate. _I don't like that bald man,_ B declared as she took a bite. _He seems mean._

_Just like the regular man, _A agreed with a swallow.

B chewed slowly; from this vantage point they could see the rectangular window at the top of one wall, though it was too high for them to see what lay on the other side. At this hour of the day it was lit up with bright light. They had vague notions of what lay beyond the glass, based on things they'd heard the man mutter absently while he worked, and things they just somehow knew without having being told. Beyond the window was _outside,_ a place that didn't have walls; and the bright light was _sunlight,_ which was like the lights in their ceiling except much, much brighter. And outside in the sunlight were other buildings and trees and animals and lots of other people, things they had never seen with their own eyes, but very much wanted to.

_Do you think the people outside are mean too? _B asked seriously.

A shrugged. _Well, we're not mean. Maybe the people outside aren't either,_ she reasoned, swallowing the last bite of her sandwich and wiping crumbs from her lips with one hand. _You should eat faster. He'll be back soon._

B nodded and began to chew more quickly. As if on cue, they heard the man's footsteps echoing down the hallway. In a few moments he would come into the room and put them back in their tubes. B finished the rest of her sandwich in three big bites, then she and A hugged each other for a last bit of warmth.

As the footsteps grew louder and the door swung open, B kept her eyes fixed on the window. _Maybe someday we'll get to find out, _she wished silently.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Abandoned Laboratory 5  
>Central City<em>

Brooke and Kayla were both out of breath by the time they reached the laboratory. The structure was imposingly large and windowless, its grounds encircled by a concrete wall topped with barbed wire. One section of the wall sported a man-sized hole with chunks of concrete scattered inward as if someone had blasted their way in. With only a moment's hesitation, the girls stepped through.

They could make out the sounds of yelling and fighting from nearby. "This way," Brooke urged, tugging Kayla by the arm around a corner, where they stumbled into a large courtyard surrounding the boarded-up entrance.

There, the girls found three tense figures standing opposite one another: Scar, Alphonse, and another large armored man who was—bizarrely—prancing and posing while brandishing what looked like a machete. "I KILL, THEREFORE I AM!" he bellowed. Only Scar noticed Brooke and Kayla's arrival; he shot them both a glare and shook his head slightly, a warning to stay hidden.

The sight of the unhinged stranger was enough to convince them; they retreated back around the corner but discreetly kept watch. _Ed's not here,_ Brooke observed silently. She scanned the area around them, then pointed to a ventilation shaft well above their heads. _He went through there. Al must have boosted him up, then waited here because he was too big. _Kayla nodded.

The strange armored man was facing Scar now. "It's been a long time since I got to chop someone up. I'm really going to enjoy this!" he whooped joyfully. He began to charge at Scar, swinging the machete as Al's eyes swiveled frantically between the two combatants.

_That armor guy's a maniac!_ Kayla gasped silently.

_It's even weirder than that,_ Brooke replied. _I can tell by his scent—that armor's empty on the inside. He's just like Al!_

But if the Ishvalan man was the least bit concerned about the stranger's attack, it didn't show. He deftly sidestepped the attack, then slapped his right hand on the attacking arm and shattered it into a cloud of metal fragments, knocking the armored man to the ground. "Another abomination created by alchemy," he pronounced coolly. "May you find peace with God." He rolled up his sleeve to better expose his glowing red arm, then advanced on his attacker, who was now hastily scooting himself backwards.

"W-wait!" the stranger exclaimed. He pointed at Scar's arm with a look of amazement. "What's _that_ doing here? You know what that is, right?"

"What?" Scar stopped and stared down at the glowing alchemic array on his forearm. "What about this?" But the armored man was on the move, leaping toward the nearest wall with surprising swiftness, opening a hidden panel and pressing a button—

_Down!_ Kayla yelled silently, yanking Brooke backwards and flinging them both to the ground as a huge explosion shook the building, bright light washing over them and pieces of debris raining down on their heads.

When the dust cleared the girls jumped back up and brushed themselves off, uninjured except for a few bruises. The courtyard had taken the brunt of the explosion; the wall around the laboratory entrance had shattered, opening the building to the outside. Al was undamaged and had shielded Scar from the blast. The armored stranger was likewise unhurt and appeared quite pleased with himself, performing a little victory dance amidst the wreckage. "If you want me, you'll have to follow me!" he taunted, patting his rear end clownishly before vanishing inside the ruined building.

Grimacing, Scar picked himself up. "My business is with the Fullmetal Alchemist," he informed Al wearily. "If you're here, than he must be inside." He turned away and strode through the ragged opening into the laboratory, though he moved more slowly and less purposefully than before.

"W-Wait!" Al called in surprise, quickly moving to follow.

"He's still going after Ed even though Al just saved him!" Kayla gasped in amazement. "Why is that guy such a jerk sometimes?"

"Because he's crazy. Let's go stop him!" Brooke urged, and the girls took off across the courtyard after them. But once they stepped inside building, she halted. "They went straight ahead, but Ed went this way," she pointed to a hallway branching off to the left. "Which way should we go? It would be better to find Ed first and warn him, but if Scar beats us there we'll be too late…"

Kayla looked back and forth uncertainly; there wasn't much time. "I can still see them up ahead—" she pointed down the main hallway, a featureless black expanse to Brooke's eyes, "—but you can track Ed's scent, so you should go find him. I'll keep following Scar."

"OK!" Brooke nodded, and each girl took off running.

o-o-o-o

"Well, it certainly _looks_ deserted," Ed conceded aloud as he stepped cautiously through the laboratory corridors. A thick layer of dust and cobwebs lay draped over the interior concrete-brick walls, the floors were coated with grime, and large patches of mold decorated the surfaces. He had already dodged a number of crude booby-traps designed to prevent unauthorized entry. Yet there were at least some lights on, and the boy couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched.

This particular hallway was lit with thin mercury-vapor lamps placed at knee height about every twenty feet, creating islands of weak greenish light that left the rest of the corridor in darkness. "If you people were going for 'creepy,' you nailed it," Ed muttered. With no idea where he was headed, he turned at the next corner, then froze.

Growling came from the darkness ahead of him. He saw the reflection of eyes appear, low to the ground like a dog's. One pair after another followed until four unseen creatures stared out at him.

There was a heartbeat's pause, then the boy glimpsed a blur of sharp teeth and four muscular legs as the first beast leapt straight at him. Ed kicked and punched at it wildly, acting more on instinct than strategy, while the rest joined in their leader's attack. They were animal chimeras from the looks of them, a mix of big predator cats, wolves and who knew what else.

For several minutes he was able to fend them off, and even managed to beat back the leader, sending it tumbling with a stream of blood flowing behind it. It slid to a stop and lay still. But the other three regrouped, gathering themselves in formation to attack simultaneously. "Damn it!" Ed cursed. He was breathing hard, already tiring; he wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

As he braced himself for the worst, he heard a sharp whistle from down the hallway, and suddenly the beasts broke off their attack. They settled into a submissive stance, haunches down and heads bowed as they faced toward the sound. Ed's heartbeat skipped anxiously; whoever was controlling the chimeras had just arrived.

From the darkened hallway before him came the sound of heavy plodding footsteps. Slowly a figure emerged from the shadows: a huge creature of some kind. It walked on two legs like a human, but its body was completely covered in brown fur, and above its strangely smooth and featureless face two huge pointed ears stuck out to the sides like a bull's horns. Looped over its shoulders were two flesh-colored appendages of some kind, almost like human arms…

"Who—and what—are you?" Ed barked at the shadowy figure. "Did you make these chimeras?"

"Not all of them," a sinister, whispery voice came from somewhere behind the creature. (Why was it familiar?) The figure dipped its head toward Ed, bringing its face into view—

Ed gasped in horror at the impossible sight before him. Suspended upside down in front of him, literally grafted to the back of the monstrous animal body, was Shou Tucker.

"It's been a long time, Edward," the older alchemist said with a grin.

Ed felt his body begin to shake, his knees go weak as unbidden flashbacks of Nina flew through his head. Tucker _couldn't_ be alive, couldn't be here, couldn't be wearing this impossible chimera body. Disbelief and horror turned quickly to rage, and the boy leapt at Tucker, his automail arm grabbing a handful of the furred body's...throat? Back of the neck? He couldn't make sense of its anatomy. "Why? Why are you here?" he cried out, hoping that whatever he was throttling _hurt._ "What you did to Nina is unforgiveable! Why are you still alive?!"

If Ed was hurting him, it didn't show. He chuckled weakly. "It seems the military feels I'm more useful alive than dead," he replied with a humble smile.

"So they faked your execution and, what—brought you here to make chimeras?" Ed's voice was cracking with fury.

Tucker nodded slowly. "Not just chimeras. I'm doing research on…a number of things that cannot be made public knowledge." He was still smiling. "If you come with me, I'll show you."

Ed was trembling with rage. But Nina was safe now, he made himself remember. Tucker had no idea where she was. The boy had already nearly beat him to a pulp once before and it hadn't changed anything, hadn't even made him feel better. And now the man—if you could still call him that—might have valuable information on the Philosopher's Stone.

Slowly, Ed let his hand unclench and fall to his side. "All right, you monster," he managed through gritted teeth. "Show me your research."

o-o-o-o

After leading Ed through the hallways and into a cramped lab, Tucker strode to a set of double doors at the back of the room and threw them open. His huge deformed outline lit up in red light emanating from the other side, a strong alchemic presence radiating with it.

Intrigued, Ed pushed his way past Tucker into the next room, eyes wide as he stared at the source of the red glow. He turned in a slow circle as he processed what he was seeing: a giant transmutation array covering the floor, with several huge jars of luminescent red substance pushed together at its center. He walked over to one of the tanks and experimentally turned its spigot; only a drop of gelatinous liquid dripped out.

"It's unfinished Red Stone," Tucker explained. "The closest the military has come to creating a true Philosopher's Stone. Even in this form, it's extremely powerful. I made some mistakes working with it, which is how I ended up in this form." He offered an embarrassed smile and rubbed his upside-down chin as casually as if he were discussing a dropped test tube. "I believe you've encountered this substance before."

Remembered images flashed through Ed's head. In Liore, he and Al had done battle with a man named Cornello who'd wielded a Red Stone—and had nearly succeeded in killing them both. His alchemy had been incredibly powerful but unstable, and he'd ultimately been defeated by blowback from his own transmutation. Later in Xenotime they'd encountered a man named Mugwar who was trying to manufacture a Red Stone by feeding its toxic raw materials to pregnant women; he'd nearly poisoned the whole town before they were able to stop him. According to him, there was no way to make one without using such techniques. Ed stared at the huge quantities of glowing red gel before him and shuddered.

"Perhaps you and I can help each other," Tucker continued. "There's a large tank in the room above us with even more ingredients than these jars put together. With this much raw material, if you could completely refine it, you could create a real Philosopher's Stone." He licked his lips. "Just think of it! Unlimited power, with no instability or blowback…"

_A Philosopher's Stone!_ Ed breathed in sharply. At last, the goal he and Al had been fighting so hard to reach was right here, right in front of him! But…

He rounded on Tucker. "How many people got hurt making this stuff?" he demanded. "Or even _killed?"_

"I don't know. It happened before I got here." The older alchemist shrugged his monstrous shoulders. "But what does it matter? Can you help those people now? Whatever happened up to this point is in the past, and you can't change it." He pushed his glasses up the inverted bridge of his nose. "If you walk away from this chance, then they suffered for nothing. But if you use these Stones to help your brother, then it would give their pain some meaning."

Ed swallowed uncertainly as he stared into the nearest jar. He hated Tucker—wanted nothing more than to smash his automail fist in the monster's face—and had no intention of helping him with anything. On top of that, once he and Al had learned how Red Stones were made, they had vowed they would find another way. But the answer to everything they were searching for was _right here,_ and he was fighting temptation_._ "Maybe…since the Stones are already made…it wouldn't be so bad just to use them…" he murmured.

"Well," Tucker countered. _"If_ you can, that is. After all, it would be impossible for any ordinary alchemist."

It was the last push Ed needed; he turned to Tucker with a proud gleam in his eye. "Then get ready to be impressed, because _I'm no ordinary alchemist!"_ he declared. Tucker grinned in reply.

o-o-o-o

Upstairs from the laboratory where Ed worked, the raw materials Tucker had spoken of did indeed rest in a large tank as the alchemist had described. But these ingredients did not glow red, and in fact they were becoming rather agitated. Thirty convicts from the adjacent prison had been rousted from their cells without explanation, handcuffed and marched under guard to this building, where they had been crowded into a small room with glowing red walls and then abandoned. They were not happy about it.

"Let us out!"

"Is anyone out there?!"

"_HEY!"_

Only one among them seemed unruffled. "Stifle it, won't you?" a man with long dark hair snapped authoritatively at the crowd. "I find the noise annoying." He sat cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the cell. Like the rest of them he wore a baggy beige shirt and pants that served as a prison uniform; his features were handsome and his amber eyes sparked with perpetual amusement, but his upper lip was twisted into an aristocratic faint sneer, contemptuous of everything and everyone around him.

The other prisoners quieted at his words. _That's Kimblee,_ they murmured amongst themselves. _The former State Alchemist. I hear he murdered his own comrades. Even the military's afraid of him._ The men nearest to him began edging as far away as they could in the tiny crowded room.

All but one. "What are you so relaxed about?" a tall man with short brown hair and a sparse beard barked, pushing his way closer to Kimblee. "They left us here to die! Not even you, the so-called Crimson Alchemist, can do anything about that, can you?"

Kimblee smirked at the man for a long moment before replying. "As a matter of fact, I can," he declared calmly. He rose to his feet slowly, watching with enjoyment as the man's arrogant snarl began to fade.

"After all, the human body contains a certain quantity of metallic atoms. By making use of that composition, and a small amount of organic compounds, I can easily transmute explosive materials," Kimblee continued. He held his cuffed hands out toward the brown-haired prisoner, displaying alchemic symbols tattooed on the palms of his hands, and deliberately stepped toward him. By now realizing his mistake in challenging a former State Alchemist with criminal tendencies, the prisoner had begun to tremble with fear.

o-o-o-o

_Hey Kayla, where are you now? What's happening?_ Brooke called out silently as she wove her way through the darkened corridors. She felt utterly alone, the empty silence seeming to press in on her from all sides.

_I've almost caught up with Al and Scar, _Kayla answered. _This place is like a maze! I hope they know where we are, because I've got no idea. How about you?_

_Same here, _Brooke replied, relieved to hear her friend's voice in the darkness. _I'm following Ed's trail, but it seems like he got lost for a while too._ The boy's scent took a winding path, crossing and recrossing itself a number of times, confounding her new senses thoroughly. But as she turned into another deserted hallway, she could tell that she was finally getting close.

_Um, Brooke?_ Kayla's voice returned. _I'm right around the corner from Al and Scar, but they just ran into some people—a creepy fat bald guy and a lady in a black evening dress. _

_Huh? _Brooke replied. _You're kidding, right? _

_Not kidding. Looks like Scar knows them... _Kayla's voice faded out for a few moments, distracted; when she returned, she sounded anxious. _Scar just said they're called "homunculi" and Al looks really freaked out! I think they're—whoa! That lady just attacked them! Her hands are all—and now the fat guy is—oh!_

_What's happening?! _Brooke demanded. Kayla's reply came in unintelligible bursts; Brooke pressed her hands over her ears, straining with her mind to hear her friend's words. Nothing else came. _Kayla, are you there?_ _Are you OK?!_ Silence.

Her heart beginning to pound, Brooke inhaled deeply, trying to hone in on Kayla's scent. _Hang on, I'll try to find you! _she called out desperately. But there were too many other scents here—not just Ed's, she noticed now, but other people too: a big group of men, plus two strange scents she couldn't place, one oddly familiar and one completely new. They were in way over their heads, she realized with a stab of fear. _Ed's really close. I'm gonna go get him, then we're coming to rescue you, _she called out to Kayla._ Just hold on, because whoever's messing with you is going to get their ass seriously kicked! OK?_ There was still no reply, so Brooke took off running, following Ed's scent as it grew stronger. He was in the room downstairs from her, she sensed.

Brooke was almost to the staircase when a furious BOOM echoed around her, the hallway around her shaking and swaying so hard that she lost her balance and fell against the nearest wall. "What the hell?!" she exclaimed. She didn't have _time_ for this—but as she tried to stand, the wall itself buckled and she fell into the next room, landing sprawled on her side coughing plaster dust. Startled, she discovered that she'd come to rest with her face inches from a huge gaping hole in the floor.

Peering into the room below, she spotted the group of men whose scent she'd detected. They must have fallen though the hole; some were lying injured on the ground, others in the process of picking themselves up, all of them oddly handcuffed and dressed in beige. And off to the side—yes, there was Ed!

She was about to call out to him when she saw him turn and speak to someone standing behind him—or rather, some_thing._ She froze in horror. The _thing_ looked like a man's body lying upside down on a monstrous animal that walked on two legs. Her nose prickled at the scent: it was a single being, part animal and part man. _A chimera,_ she realized in shock. But his scent was so familiar…it reminded her so much of Nina…could that be her alchemist father?!

"Tucker!" Ed exclaimed angrily at him, confirming Brooke's suspicion. "Why are there people here? If I had transmuted not knowing they were there…!"

_What the hell are you doing, Ed? _Brooke wondered desperately, wishing he could hear her thoughts. _Why_ a_re you doing alchemy stuff with that monster?!_

Tucker was rubbing his upside-down chin in embarrassment. "Those are just prisoners," he chuckled nervously. "I _did_ say there were ingredients upstairs."

"Ingredients!" Ed echoed. "What the hell are you—" But he stopped when a door slid open on the other side of the room, and in strode…Al?

"Brother!" the familiar armored figure chirped excitedly. "Have you finished the Philosopher's Stone yet?" He spoke in Alphonse's metallic voice, made the same clanking sounds as he walked, wore Alphonse's grin. But the strange scent he carried was all _wrong,_ not like Al's metal at all. Not like a person either, or even a chimera. It made the hair on the back of Brooke's neck stand on end.

"A-Al?" Ed replied, stunned. "How did you—"

The figure began laughing, a strange malicious snicker that Al would never use. "What an idiot! You should see your face right now!" he taunted in a completely different voice, deeper than Al's and decidedly unmetallic. The armor abruptly lit up with white light and began to shrink, its shape and appearance morphing…until finally it settled into the form of a teenage boy with spiky greenish-black hair, dressed in a short black tank top and miniskirt, a tattoo of a winged red serpent on one thigh. Unseen on her perch, Brooke gasped.

"Of course the prisoners are ingredients," the stranger continued. "You can't make a Philosopher's Stone without live humans. Didn't you know that? You really must be a moron!"

Ed's eyes had gone wide as saucers. In the next instant he launched himself at the imposter. "You monster! _Where is my brother?!"_ he demanded as he threw a punch at the stranger's face. But the spiky-haired figure slid backwards and nimbly avoided the blow, grinning.

"Whoa, you're really determined for such a pipsqueak!" he taunted, ducking sideways to evade another punch. "What a pain. I really hate fighting." He moved more quickly than anyone Brooke had ever seen, and his bizarre non-human scent…What had Kayla called the other strange people? _Homunculi._

Gritting his teeth in frustration, Ed feinted a punch with his left hand, then threw his right fist. "You shut up with that 'pipsqueak' crap and tell me—" He gasped as an audible metallic _ping_ sounded and his right arm went limp, swinging uselessly in front of his chest. Brooke gasped too—his automail arm had just _broken_ out of nowhere?! The spiky-haired youth looked equally surprised, but snickered loudly and took the opportunity to kick Ed in the face, hard and repeatedly, each blow jerking Ed like a ragdoll until he finally fell to the floor.

"Stupid human trash," the creature muttered spitefully as he stood over Ed. "You need to learn your place. The only reason you're still alive is because we _want_ you alive." Ed lay on the ground half-stunned, feebly scrabbling to pull himself upright.

The creature was directly below Brooke now. Moving quietly to avoid drawing his attention, she began to creep backwards away from the edge of the hole. But suddenly the damaged floor below her gave a loud CRACK and she felt the floor tilt under her, felt herself sliding—

"Huh?" she heard the spiky-haired creature say just before she plummeted onto his head.

"_Brooke!" _Ed called out in frantic surprise, finally managing to struggle to his feet. She and the creature were a pile of tangled limbs trying to flail their way apart. "Get away from that creep—he's dangerous!"

But it was too late; the creature had recovered his senses and promptly locked a hand around her neck, not quite hard enough to choke. Brooke gasped, tearing at his inhumanly strong grip. It didn't budge. "Ooh, is this your little sweetheart?" he taunted Ed, making kisses in the air. "How'd you like me to rip her throat out?"

"He's not my boyfriend, you jerk!" Brooke protested indignantly, almost as angry as she was frightened. She twisted and connected a hard kick with his stomach, causing him to yelp in pain and loosen his grip on her neck; she saw his abdomen flash with red light as she broke free and bolted toward the doorway. But the door slid open before she reached it, and she had to catch herself up short to keep from colliding with the figure that glided through.

It was a woman in a black evening dress. Tall and curvaceous with long black hair spilling over her shoulders, the same tattoo of a winged red serpent above her breasts, she strolled into the room slowly, swinging her hips. On her left shoulder she carried Kayla's limp figure as lightly as a doll. "My my, Envy. You've certainly let things get out of hand," the woman crooned to the spiky-haired creature, her voice low and seductive.

"Took you long enough to get here, Lust," Envy groused in return.

"Give me back my friend!" Brooke shouted at the woman, her hands balled into fists. "You'd better not have hurt her!"

"This cute little thing? Oh no, she's only sleeping." Smiling, the woman shrugged her shoulder and let Kayla drop to the floor, the girl jerking awake as she landed. Brooke ran over and helped her up, pulling her away from the woman and standing in front of her protectively. Kayla was dazed but seemed unhurt; groggily she reached up and pulled her fedora, miraculously still on her head, down more securely over her feathers.

"Let them go," Ed ordered with clenched fists, his mouth a tight line. "I'm the one you want, right? They don't have anything to do with this."

"Oh, but I'm afraid they do. Don't move, ladies," Lust added sweetly as she lifted her hands. In the blink of an eye Brooke and Kayla found their necks caged in by long, black blades that streamed from the woman's fingernails.

Brooke gasped; if either of them moved more than a few inches their throats would be slashed. "What the hell?" she muttered fearfully, tensed and trying not to move. This was just too much to take in.

"That's her thing," Kayla sighed wearily. "She's a homunculus. Fake people made from alchemy, Al said. They all do something weird like that." Brooke could feel her friend trembling; despite their bravado they were both scared to death. Kayla switched to speaking silently: _They have Al too, but I'm pretty sure Scar got away. He won't leave us here._

"Don't you touch my friends!" Ed growled at the homunculi.

"Then I strongly suggest you continue your transmutation. We've had a setback, but there are still lots of ingredients for you to work with." Lust nodded at the handcuffed men, who had been watching quietly all this time. Now they had heard enough; as a group they turned and began rushing toward the exit, until the door slid open in front of them and yet another figure barged through, driving them back. This time it was a large fat man, also dressed in black, with no hair and a face like a giant baby's. He was dragging Al, his wrists and ankles bound with rope, by the plume on top of his helmet. With a giggle the homunculus tossed the boy's armored body at the woman's feet.

"Good work, Gluttony," Lust praised the creature like a child.

"Brother!" Al cried out. "Don't give them what they want!" Grinning, the fat man sat on Al like a chair, planting his hand on the boy's armored face to stifle his voice.

"What do you want from us?" Ed demanded, aghast. "If you're homunculi, an alchemist must have made you. Who are you working for?"

"You don't need to know that," Lust interrupted. "All we want is equivalent exchange. You create the Philosopher's Stone and turn us human, and we'll give you your brother and friends back." Her words floated in the air amid stunned silence. The homunculi wanted to become human? That was it?

"Wait a minute," Kayla interjected. "You called those people 'ingredients.' What happens to them?"

"They die," Envy clarified with a shrug. "It's them or you, basically. Pipsqueak's choice." Ed was trembling with indecision now, his eyes sunken with shadows. Envy casually pivoted on one foot and kicked the boy hard in the face. "Enough chit-chat. Get to work." He pointed upwards. "Start by repairing the ceiling."

The girls had already conferred silently, and they were agreed. "Wait, Ed! We don't want you to kill people to save us. Please don't become a murderer!" Brooke urged, her voice husky with fear.

"And Al was trying to tell you he didn't want that either!" Kayla added desperately. Despite being muzzled by Gluttony's hand, Al managed to make enough noise to signal his agreement.

Still holding her blades in place around the girls' throats, Lust nodded to Gluttony, who used a flick of his beefy hand to knock Al's helmet off, then lowered his mouth to the armored neck. "One word from me and Gluttony takes a bite out of Alphonse's blood seal," she crooned. "Then I slit the girls' throats."

His shoulders sagging and whole body shaking, Ed nodded, then lowered himself to his knees. Gluttony dropped Al long enough to herd the prisoners into the center of the circle. Ignoring the protests of his brother and friends, Ed clapped his hands together as best he could with one limp arm, then lay his palms on the floor. The floor, walls and ceiling began to glow, reversing the damage from the explosion and redrawing the broken alchemy symbols.

"No, Ed!" Brooke cried. "Please don't do this!" But the boy didn't even look back as he lay his hands on the ground at the edge of the circle.

_Brooke. Scar's here,_ Kayla's voice murmured silently._ Up above, by the big hole in the ceiling._

Brooke cast her eyes up and saw the Ishvalan's silhouette standing motionless, simply watching the scene below. _What's he waiting for? Why isn't he helping?!_ she exclaimed.

But in front of them, Ed had also gone still, his hands unmoving and shoulders slumped. "I can't do this," he murmured to himself. He turned toward his brother and the girls, pain in his eyes. "Al. Kayla. Brooke. I'm sorry. I just…can't do it."

A dreadful silence filled the air. In a moment Al spoke. "It's OK, Brother," he replied warmly for all of them. "We understand." Brooke and Kayla nodded.

"Well, this is disappointing," Lust sighed. "Fine then, Fullmetal boy. Get ready to say goodbye—" But her words were cut off by a searing flash of red lightning that arced from the ceiling to toward one of the tanks of red fluid, bursting it from within. _"What—?"_ she cried, startled.

"Fullmetal Alchemist," Scar's voice boomed from above. "You made the right decision. Take the others and go." Another arc followed, this time aimed straight at Lust; she leapt away just in time, retracting her bladed fingernails. Freed, Brooke and Kayla ran to Al and began to untie the ropes binding his wrists and ankles. Two more bolts sent Envy and Gluttony scurrying away from Ed. The boy stared upwards, meeting the Ishvalan's eyes with a solemn nod before hurrying to join his brother and friends.

"Let's go," Ed shouted over the din of the exploding tanks, and the four took off running for the nearest door, weaving to dodge the bolts of red lightning and flying debris from Scar's handiwork as he drove the homunculi off. Brooke and Kayla held hands as they ran, fearing they would be separated.

Al trailed just behind the others, his broad metal body helping to shield them from the shattering glass. The red liquid from the tanks sloshed onto the floor and pooled around their footsteps. "Wait, be careful not to step on the—!" he cried too late, just as Kayla's foot landed on the edge of the red-soaked transmutation circle ringing the floor. Both girls froze in place, their hands locked together, as a blue light swelled up from the circle and engulfed them, kicking up a furious wind disturbance.

Gasping, the brothers rushed toward them, each holding out a hand. "Brooke—Kayla—grab onto us!" Ed shouted. But a surge of energy knocked the boys down, throwing Ed into the wall hard enough to stun him and leaving Al's body crawling with paralyzing bolts of electricity. The light surrounding the girls shifted to purple, and in unison they began to scream.

"Brother, I can't do anything!" Al cried out in frustration as he stared as his unresponding limbs. Beside him on the floor, Ed was groggily scrabbling just to sit up. Scar's explosions had receded farther into the building as he pursued the homunculi, or vice versa; either way he was too far away to help them. The girls continued to scream, an eerie trancelike keening that seemed born from something more primal than fear, while the purple energy surged bigger and brighter around them, almost seeming to take the shape of living creatures as the brothers stared in horror—

"THIS WAY!" a muffled shout came from somewhere nearby. The door next to them slammed open and in ran Major Armstrong, Lieutenant Ross and Lieutenant Brosh.

Quickly taking stock of the situation, Ross rushed fearlessly into the circle before anyone else could react, fighting her way against the wind to grab the girls, one in each arm, around the shoulders in an awkward embrace. "Come on—!" she yelled, trying to drag the motionless figures out of the circle.

But abruptly their screaming stopped; the wind calmed and purple light faded away. The girls' bodies sagged limply, collapsing against the older woman. "It's OK," Ross murmured, hugging the girls tightly. "You're safe now. You're all safe."

o-o-o-o

Twenty minutes later, the Laboratory 5 courtyard had become a hive of activity. Over the competing shouts of some three dozen soldiers and the near-constant hum of arriving military vehicles, Ed and Al were being made to give reports to a seemingly endless succession of higher-ranked officers. Brooke and Kayla sat ignored on a chunk of fallen concrete, military-issue blankets draped over their shoulders and canteens of water thrust into their hands. No one seemed to know what to do with a pair of out-of-place teenage civilians, and had apparently forgotten all about them, which suited the girls just fine.

"Oh man," Kayla moaned, nervously tugging at her fedora. "Look how dark it is! We're gonna be so late getting home."

"Crap. Our parents are going to kill us," Brooke concurred, unconsciously smoothing her beret. "Hopefully our uncles will cover for us." There had been just enough time for Hughes and Armstrong to shower their nieces with relieved hugs before they'd been called away to give their own reports, subordinates in tow.

Kayla nodded, then turned to survey their surroundings, looking out into the dark landscape. "I don't see Scar anywhere, or the homunculi. Can you tell if they're nearby?"

Brooke inhaled deeply through her nose. "They must be pretty far from here. I can't smell them anywhere." Her face reddened. "That still sounds so weird to say."

Kayla laughed. "It's still weird to hear you say it, too." After a moment she sobered. "So...do you think chimera and homunculi are alike, somehow?"

"Huh? What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not sure," Kayla shrugged, fidgeting absently. "When that lady grabbed me, for a second there was like a flash of energy, and it just felt, I don't know, familiar somehow. Like we came from the same place...I don't know how else to describe it."

Brooke rested her chin on her hands, lips pressed together thoughtfully. "Well, we were all made from alchemy. I guess that's one thing we have in common. But that's it." She shook her head. "They were monsters. You and I are _nothing _likethem."

"Yeah, OK. You're right." Kayla smiled. "I guess everything just feels really strange right n—" She cut herself off with a sharp intake of breath and went still, her face turning pale white.

"Kayla, what—are you OK? What's happening?"

"Don't turn around," Kayla's voice was hushed and taut with fear. "Don't look backwards."

Freezing, Brooke heard the purr of a military car idling behind her, the slam of a door as someone got out. From the corner of her eye she saw a soldier from the courtyard turn and salute toward the space behind her. "Brigadier General Grand, sir!" the man called.

Brooke's eyes locked nervously onto Kayla, who was trembling. "Brooke," she whispered fearfully. "That man behind you..._it's the bald man from the lab!"_


	9. Resources

Chapter 9: Resources  
><span>

_Twelve Years Ago  
>Central City Warehouse District<br>Raid on Morishita's Laboratory, Continued_

Morishita strode proudly though his lab, gesturing his bound arms in a theatrical gesture. "How do you like my menagerie?" he demanded smugly, indicating the caged animals that lined the walls of the room.

Scowling, Riza stepped away to peer inside a few of the cages while Roy continued questioning the alchemist, and the other four members of their team clustered nervously around the doorway. There were strange animals of all descriptions here—two small luminescent green cats, a miniature dog-wolf hybrid, a two-headed ferret, others she couldn't identify. Shelves on one wall held dead specimens preserved in jars of formaldehyde, their blank eyes staring back her as they floated behind glass. Riza closed her eyes and shuddered, thinking of the two little girls who had been experimented upon here along with these animals.

_Focus,_ she ordered herself, forcing her eyes to reopen. She couldn't allow herself the luxury of sadness or anxiety—not here, not now. They might not have rescued the children tonight, but there was still work to be done that could help them later. Scanning the room, her eyes landed on clipboards full of research notes attached to each of the cage doors, and she motioned for Fuery and Falman to begin examining them as she returned her own attention to the interrogation.

She had missed Morishita's last statement, but whatever it was had Roy agitated. "I suggest you cut the crap, Doctor," he snapped. "Everyone knows the phoenix is a myth. Whatever these birds are," he added with a scowl toward one of the cages, "they aren't made of magic." Peering past him, Riza made out two large birds about the size of ostriches in heavily reinforced side-by-side enclosures. One bird was iridescent blue, another metallic gold. The blue bird was slightly larger and had more plumage on its head, but otherwise the two were virtually identical.

Morishita tipped his head back and laughed. "'No such thing as magic,' says the alchemist! Half the population of Amestris thinks alchemy is mystical voodoo, my boy. Magic is just another word for science we don't understand." He regarded the birds with an oily smirk. "And these creatures—are very—_real!" _Too quickly for them to stop him, he turned and slapped a cuffed hand onto a button on the side of the right-hand cage. The interior burst into flame, incinerating the blue bird before it had time to make a sound. The gold bird in the cage next to it erupted into screams.

Morishita was pinned to the floor in an instant, the barrel of Riza's gun pressed hard against his temple and Roy's gloved hand poised inches from the man's wild eyes. "No more games, Doctor!" Roy growled, his voice dripping with venom. "Havoc, Breda—get this piece of scum out of here. Make sure he's _tightly_ secured!"

"But wait! You haven't seen the best part yet!" Morishita protested as the soldiers dragged him bodily from the room. The gold bird, receiving no answer from its companion, let its frantic cries dwindle into a mournful song.

Roy pressed a hand to his forehead, eyes closed and jaw clenched. It had been stupid to give the prisoner that much leeway; they were lucky the booby-trap hadn't been aimed at them. Even so, the man had succeeded in depriving them of a piece of his research. They had let their emotions cloud their judgment.

"Colonel," Riza said calmly, staring into the burned cage.

His eyes turned to follow her gaze, and Fuery and Falman quietly approached to look over their shoulders. Impossibly, the bird's charred body was moving, wobbling from side to side like an egg about to hatch. Seconds later there was a purple flash that split the carcass down the center like a seam; the two halves of the body fell away, and from the middle climbed a juvenile version of the iridescent blue bird, no larger than a chicken. It spread its plumage and began to call and sing to the gold bird.

"_A phoenix,"_ Roy breathed, almost unable to believe what he was seeing. "He was telling the truth. It really _does_ exist!"

Equally shocked, Riza turned to stare at the metallic gold phoenix, who was ignoring the reborn blue bird's call and continuing to make soft keening cries. "They're mates," she realized aloud. "The gold one…she's still grieving. She doesn't recognize the new bird." Legend held that phoenixes were intelligent creatures—even sentient—who mated for life. The female's anguish and loneliness were plainly audible in her song. Riza closed her eyes again and swallowed, less successful this time at banishing her emotions. All of this, it was all too much. In another moment her eyes snapped open and met Roy's.

"We can't leave them like this," she declared, her voice leaving no room for argument. He nodded briskly; she could tell he had already been thinking the same thing.

As Falman and Fuery looked on in amazement, Roy bent his head down to the gold bird's cage bars. She quieted her mourning song and regarded him gravely. "I'm sorry," he told her. "This will hurt a lot, but only for few seconds. Then things will be better." After a moment she gave a single chirp as if in understanding.

Roy stood back, took careful aim, snapped his fingers and engulfed the gold phoenix in a fireball. As with her companion, she did not scream.

The four soldiers held their breath, and even the young blue bird stopped his trilling, all of them waiting. An agonizingly long minute elapsed, until at last the cindered carcass inside the cage began to stir, then erupted in purple light. A juvenile version of the gold phoenix shook out her feathers and made a calling song, which the blue phoenix answered joyfully. Both of them began to rub up against the bars of their adjoining cages as they tried to reach each other.

It was impossible for the soldiers to watch the happy reunion without grinning, and even (though the men tried to hide it) tearing up a little. But after a few moments Riza sobered. "The military will confiscate all of these animals for research. They'll probably be dissected alive," she observed somberly.

"Mmm," Roy mumbled agreement, frowning. He took a long look around the room and its walls of cages. "Falman, Fuery, what do the lab records say about these creatures? Do they pose any threat to people?"

"No sir," Fuery piped up. "None of them are aggressive. And they've all been well-cared-for, with no exposure to diseases."

"Good." Roy turned to Riza thoughtfully, raising an eyebrow. "I don't see any animals in this laboratory, do you, Lieutenant?"

The hint of a smile crept across Riza's lips. "I can't recall seeing any, Colonel," she concurred. "Any I don't believe the men do either."

"Don't see any such thing, sir," Falman coughed, staring innocently at the walls.

"Me neither, Colonel," Fuery added, working hard to suppress a smile.

"All right then. We'll make sure to note the empty state of this room in our report," Roy declared with a smirk. "Sergeant Major Fuery, you will make sure that all of these cage doors are open when we leave. Falman, you will see that the back door of the building is propped open."

"Yes sir!" the men responded in unison, openly grinning now.

"Lieutenant, you're with me," Roy concluded, striding from the room. "This will probably be our last chance to question the prisoner, so let's make it count."

Riza followed behind him, letting her breath out slowly in a mixture of dejection and small relief. Though they had caught Morishita, their rescue mission had been a failure. The children they had tried to save were still missing and in terrible danger. And the highest levels of the military would soon arrive to take the alchemist and all the evidence of his crimes out of their hands, for unknown ends.

She gave a last glance behind her at the caged lab animals, soon to be freed. If all they had to show for tonight was one small defiant act of kindness, they would take whatever they could get.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Abandoned 5__th__ Laboratory  
>Central City<em>

_It can't be him. There's just no way—! _Brooke gasped silently, eyes frozen in terror on Kayla. Behind her, the tall bald officer with the handlebar mustache—the only other person besides Morishita who could recognize them from their days as test subjects—crossed his arms and scowled, surveying the chaotic scene.

_Don't turn around!_ Kayla warned fearfully. _He's looking this way!_ It took all her energy to keep herself calm, keep her body relaxed and still when every impulse in her brain was screaming at her to RUN. Instead she forced herself to take a drink from her water canteen, casually readjusted the blanket around her shoulders, and forced herself to smile at Brooke. They were just two ordinary girls talking, two innocent interns who'd found themselves in the wrong place during a military operation, no one remarkable at all. Don't see us, don't see us, don't see us—

The man's eyes swept over the girls as if they weren't even there, continuing to take in the scene until he sighted Ed and Al, off in the distance giving their report to Colonel Mustang. His scowl deepened as he strode off in their direction.

_He's gone. He didn't recognize us. _Kayla exhaled deeply, saw Brooke do the same.

_That was too close!_ Brooke gasped, shedding her blanket and jumping to her feet, with Kayla quickly following. _Let's get out of here right now. Everyone's forgotten about us anyway, I'm sure no one will—_

"GIRLS!" a familiar voice shouted from across the courtyard. Hughes was waving frantically at them.

—_miss us,_ Brooke finished with a despondent sigh as Kayla's uncle barreled toward them.

"YOU'RE ALL RIGHT!" he declared joyously as he swept them both into a hug. "I'm so relieved! What were you two even doing here?!"

"We were just, you know, it's complicated," Kayla mumbled through a flustered smile. "But we're going home now, so you don't need to worry about us or anything—"

"Going home? How? Not walking by yourselves at this hour!" He shook his head vigorously. "I'll be finished here soon, then I'm driving you both home. I _insist,"_ he cut off the girls' objections before either got out a word. "Stay here, understand? Don't leave this spot. I'll be back as soon as I can." He gave them a stern look until the girls reluctantly nodded, then he relaxed into a grin. "I promised your parents I'd look after you both, remember?" he reminded them, pulling them back into a quick hug. "It's a dangerous world. You never know what could be lurking out there at this time of night." Humming to himself, he turned and walked briskly back to rejoin his subordinates.

Kayla and Brooke sank ruefully back onto their piece of concrete and resumed huddling under their blankets. "Oh Uncle Maes," Kayla murmured after him, "you've got NO idea."

-o-o-o-o-

Across the courtyard, Roy looked up from the clipboard in his hands and frowned thoughtfully at Ed while Hawkeye and Al looked on. "Chimeras and homunculi, hmm? You put everything you saw into your official report?"

"Not everything," the boy replied in a hushed voice, eyes darting from side to side at the crowds of soldiers. Roy frowned impatiently. The site was crawling with top brass and their lackeys; and with the High Command taking an interest—including Brigadier General Grand, hovering conspicuously nearby—it might be some time before they could speak freely, even after tonight.

He flipped through the clipboard pages, reviewing Ed's statement. "Is there anything in here that you're…unsure about?" he asked. If the boy had lied about anything in the official report, that would be a place to start.

Ed shook his head. "I'm 100% sure about everything in the report," he confirmed.

Grand was looking decidedly interested in their hushed conversation. He inclined his head at one of his subordinates, who detached himself from the crowd and meandered closer to Roy's group, pretending to be absorbed in his clipboard. Roy coughed, his demeanor turning suddenly lighthearted. "Tell me again, Fullmetal," he said loudly, eyes narrowed with disapproval, "how you managed to break _this?" _He grasped Ed's right hand, lifted the limp automail arm and let it fall, watching it arc uselessly at the boy's side.

"Hey!" Ed clamped his left hand over the metal forearm to stop its motion. "That's still attached to me, you know," he huffed. "And I don't know how it broke. Something just snapped inside."

Hawkeye cleared her throat. "Regulations are very clear about injuries sustained in the line of duty, sir, _regardless_ of how it happened."

Roy ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "So in addition to having to pay for all this damage," he gestured at the shattered building and courtyard around them, "now my office budget has to cover the shrimp's defective automail? And this is hardly the first giant bill he's run up. Do you have any idea what an expensive subordinate you are, Fullmetal?"

"I keep warning Brother about his methods," Al murmured to Hawkeye, who flashed a sympathetic smile.

"Do you think this is fun for me, Colonel Bastard?" Ed scowled, using his left hand to wave the limp appendage at Roy's face. "I'm going to have to leave town to get this fixed. My mechanic is all the way in Rush Valley, so you'd better be prepared to give me a long leave of absence."

"Done," Roy responded quickly, smirking beneath his narrowed eyes. "The farther away you are from here, the better for my budget."

Fullmetal sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. _"Fine._ We're out of here, then." He stomped past Roy, who felt something brush his military-issue coat as the boy passed. Off to the side the eavesdropping solider, apparently satisfied, withdrew and returned to Grand's side.

Once he was certain they were no longer being watched, Roy reached a hand into his coat pocket and pulled out the piece of paper that Ed had slipped inside. Riza stood close by his shoulder as he unrolled it, and together they read the hastily-scrawled words: _Shou Tucker is still alive._

-o-o-o-o-

Brooke and Kayla hunched beneath their blankets, trying to look as small and unnoticeable as possible as the stream of soldiers passed back and forth beside them. Hughes was lost to their sight somewhere in the midst of the crowd. So was the bald man; they fervently hoped they were lost to his as well.

But their luck didn't hold for long. Brooke sat up straight, alarm in her eyes. _Kayla, I can smell—_

"Well, what do we have here?" boomed a man's jolly voice from behind them. The girls swung toward the voice fearfully. It was a military officer, an older man they had never met, with black hair and a bushy mustache, a friendly twinkle in his eyes. He appeared to be quite high-ranking; his uniform had more gold stripes on the shoulders than anyone else's, he carried a ceremonial sword in a scabbard at his waist, and all the soldiers in the vicinity were paying _very_ close attention to his actions. A woman wearing a lavender business suit stood silently behind him with a pleasant smile; a brunette who looked about thirty, she bore a name tag that read DOUGLAS. "Are these the famous interns I've been hearing about?" the man continued cheerfully.

"Famous…interns?" Kayla repeated insensibly. The man didn't seem to mean them any harm, but at her side, Brooke sat frozen, every muscle tensed as if she sensed a threat.

"Of course!" the man chuckled, then stuck his hand out in a handshake. "Führer President Bradley, at your service."

It took a moment for his words to sink in—literally the most powerful man the entire country stood in front of them, making introductions like a normal person on the street. Kayla hastily stood, letting her blanket fall, and shook his hand; Brooke followed a beat later, still edgy.

"So, I hear you girls have already had a few adventures during your internship. Tagging along with the Fullmetal Alchemist will do that, of course." He gave them a jovial wink. "But I also hear you've both kept your heads in some pretty dangerous situations. Sounds to me like you'd be excellent candidates for joining our military when you come of age."

Both girls coughed. "Oh, no…we're just doing this so we can graduate," Brooke replied with a tense smile. "Not soldier material at all. We're, um, going to be doctors."

_Doctors? _Kayla interjected silently.

_Just play along! _Brooke hissed back.

"There's no reason you can't do both. We have military hospitals, you know," Bradley chuckled. He clapped a hand on each girl's shoulder. "I'm going to do everything in my power to convince you. I'll make sure you get special attention for the rest of your week with us." He turned back toward the crowd of soldiers. "Grand! Come over here," he barked.

_Isn't that—?_ Brooke gasped in silent panic.

_Oh no!_ Kayla cried at the same time. Both girls held their breath as the crowd parted to let the officer pass through. As they'd feared, the bald man with the handlebar mustache came striding out.

"Your Excellency," the man presented himself with a thin smile. He did not look pleased at having been summoned. Once again his eyes passed over the terrified girls, unrecognizing and clearly disinterested.

The Führer grinned and thumped the girls' shoulders. "Tomorrow when you two report to Central Command for your internship assignment, I want you come to the High Command offices. Brigadier General Grand here will give you a tour."

The bald man bristled, his false smile rapidly diminishing in enthusiasm. He coughed. "Respectfully, Your Excellency, I hardly think that would be the best use of our resources—"

"_Grand._ You have your orders," Bradley snapped, his own smile suddenly a few degrees colder. "And make sure you show them around our biomedical labs. The young ladies here have an interest in medicine."

Defeated, Grand gave an abrupt salute. "It will be my _pleasure,_ sir," he replied irritability, no longer bothering to smile. "Now if I may return to my duties…?"

"You may, and you'll give me a briefing while you're at it." The Führer turned back to the girls. "I look forward to meeting you two again," he concluded with a wink, then strode off toward the crowd with Douglas and Grand following.

Numb with fear, Kayla turned to Brooke. _Does he know who we are?_ she asked.

_I don't know,_ Brooke replied, her inner voice hoarse with fear. _But either way, we need to get out of here NOW._ She grabbed Kayla's hand and pulled her into a brisk walk in the opposite direction from Bradley and Grand, toward the courtyard's exit. _I could tell by his scent—he's a homunculus. And so was that lady._

_WHAT! _Kayla's eyes went wide, speechless for a few moments as they threaded through the clustered soldiers. _But that can't be…! He's the leader…of the whole country…_.

Brooke's mouth was set in a grim line. _Yeah. Something crazy is happening. I don't understand it either, I just want to get away from here._

They almost made it out of the courtyard before they were stopped. "Girls!" they heard Hughes call from a nearby knot of soldiers, his voice marked with annoyance. "Where do you think you're going? What did I say before?" He waved a clipboard at them. "I told you, I'll be done here soon. In the meantime, get back here!"

Kayla forced a smile. "Sorry Uncle Maes, we're just looking for a bathroom!" she called cheerfully.

Beside her, Brooke stood up straighter. "And Ed and Al are going with us!" she declared, pointing to a spot on the edge of the crowd where the Elrics happened to be emerging at that moment. "Come on, guys, pick up the pace!" she hollered, beckoning to the confused brothers, who walked over to join them.

"Oh. That's all right then," Hughes replied, distracted as a subordinate handed him a second clipboard.

"And, um, they offered to walk us home, so you don't have to drive us," Brooke continued, elbowing Ed in the ribs. "Right guys?"

"Uh, yeah. We'll take it from here," Ed called to Hughes, while Al smiled politely. "I guess?" Ed added under his breath.

Hughes pursed his lips in a frown, but nodded. "OK then. You kids be careful out there, all right?" Without waiting for an answer, his attention was quickly pulled back to his work.

-o-o-o-o-

The girls' news, delivered hastily as they walked, set Ed and Al reeling. "You can't be serious. The _Führer President_ is one of those monsters?!" Ed exclaimed.

"But he seems so nice," Al countered, disheartened.

"You're missing the most important point. He might know who we are!" Brooke continued urgently. "He basically ordered us to walk into a military lab with the guy who helped experiment on us the first time! Ed, Al, we can't stay here!"

"But where will we go, Brooke?" Kayla asked anxiously. Brooke fell silent, frowning.

"I know—you can come with us to Rush Valley!" Al jumped in. "Brother really does need to go see his mechanic."

"That's not a bad idea, Al," Ed concurred. "We can stay there until things blow over. Try to figure out what the military knows, and—and what the hell is going on with these homunculi." The other three nodded in agreement.

"What about our parents, though?" Kayla asked Brooke fearfully. "Will they let us go? And what if they're in danger too?"

Brooke stared grimly in front of her as they continued walking, her hands balled into fists. "Then we have to tell them what's happened. _Everything._ No more lies."

Kayla swallowed. They were almost to her house; down the street, she could see both sets of parents' cars parked in the driveway. The Hughes' house was the agreed-upon meeting place in case of emergencies. As late as the girls were, they were probably already in panic mode.

"Yeah," Kayla agreed sadly. "We owe them that much. No more lies."

-o-o-o-o-

The four parents sat in silence around the Hughes' dining room table, staring at each other with wide eyes as they absorbed the girls' story. Brooke and Kayla, quiet now after delivering their news, hunched anxiously between them. Ed and Al were left hovering in the living room, a discreet distance away where they could still hear. They all kept their voices down to avoid waking Nina in her upstairs bedroom.

"This internship was a mistake," Vincent said bitterly, his voice filling the hollow silence. "We were fools to let the girls anywhere near the military. What the hell were we thinking?!"

"We did what we thought we had to do," Raven countered, her voice firm. "They couldn't stay locked in their bedrooms forever. We made the best decision we could…even if it was the wrong one."

"There's no point in dwelling on the past," Lavinia cut in. "All that matters is what we do now." Her eyes searched the others. "Ideas?"

Rick sighed unhappily. "I think the girls' plan to leave town is the best one. It sounds as if they've made," he inclined his head toward the living room "some very useful friends, who have just as much to fear from the military as we do." He shook his head. "I don't like it, but I think it's the safest option."

"But they're all just kids!" Vincent protested. "We're talking about 15-year-olds roaming the country by themselves—and we don't even know these boys—"

"Maes knows them. He _trusts_ them," Lavinia countered.

"So does my brother Alex," Rick added firmly. "He's the only one besides us who knows the truth about our daughters, and he trusts the Elrics with their _lives._ He told me that." The group fell silent.

"I think that settles it," Raven declared after a few moments. "We still don't know what the military knows, but either way, it's safer for the girls to get out of town. And the Elrics are our only alternative." She locked eyes with each of the adults in turn; reluctantly, the others nodded.

"But what about you?" Brooke interjected, her gaze taking in all four adults. "If we're in danger, so are you!" Kayla nodded agreement, eyes wide with anxiety.

"We don't know that," Lavinia answered gently. "We don't know for sure that the Führer knows anything. For all we know, this could all be a coincidence. But if both our families suddenly left town, _that_ would raise the military's suspicions for sure."

"You two have an excuse, since your internship is with the Elrics," Rick added. "We don't. But we've got Alex on the inside. If the military starts to get suspicious, he'll warn us."

"And if things get bad, we can bring Maes in on the secret too. He'll help us," Vincent added, though he frowned at the prospect.

Lavinia smiled and ruffled Kayla's hair. "So we've got resources, OK? We'll be fine here."

Kayla bit her lip, exchanging worried looks with Brooke across the table. Finally both girls nodded. It was settled.

o-o-o-o

Back at the laboratory site, Roy surveyed the now nearly-deserted courtyard with arms crossed, sighing. Command's work was done here; the crime scene had been rapidly emptied of evidence, spirited away under Grand's supervision, and the building alchemically sealed. Only a handful of soldiers remained to mop up and secure the perimeter. He and Hughes had made sure to maneuver their teams among them, but there was likely nothing else of value to be learned here.

At his side, Riza was paging slowly through the papers on her clipboard and frowning. "Find anything interesting, Lieutenant?" he asked without much hope.

"I'm reviewing the witness statements, sir, and there's something odd. Lieutenant Ross said that she saw purple light coming from the interns when they activated the transmutation circle." She lowered the clipboard, her eyes meeting his. _"Purple."_

"…which isn't a natural color for alchemic energy," Mustang completed her thought. "It's blue or white under normal circumstances, or more rarely red, if there's red water involved." He spoke as if reciting from an alchemy textbook, smiling slightly. "Purple would be notable, if that _was_ what she saw."

"Lieutenant Ross has excellent observational skills."

"And so do the Elric brothers. _They_ said it was a combination of red and blue energy. To someone untrained in alchemy, I'm sure it could have looked purple."

"But we've seen purple before, remember?" she asked. Her voice was quiet but determined, her eyes boring into his. "The phoenixes."

"I remember." The smile was gone, his eyes serious. "All right Lieutenant, we know Tucker was here, and that there were chimeras. It could well have some connection to Morishita and his so-called azothestry." Roy shook his head. "But Ed told us that everything he said in his statement was true, as far as it went. And I can't think of any reason the boys would keep something that significant from us." He frowned apologetically. "When it comes to alchemy, I have to take their word over Ross'. The light coming from the circle was red and blue."

Hawkeye bristled. "It wasn't coming from the circle," she corrected, irritation in her voice. "It was coming from the _girls."_

"Who were fine, as I recall," he countered. "No transmutation effects, no evidence that they got anything more than a nasty shock." He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Look, Riza…I want there to be a connection here just as much as you do. Believe me. But we have to go on the evidence."

Annoyed, she went back to flipping through the sheets on her clipboard. "Then I'll find it," she snapped, turning her back on him. He regarded her calmly for a few more moments. Receiving no further acknowledgement, he turned and withdrew across the courtyard, where Hughes was supervising a small knot of subordinates.

Left alone, Riza lingered over one particular page, the medical corps' physical examination of the interns after the incident. Rather than a comprehensive physical examination, it had been nothing more than a standard first aid check: shining a flashlight into their eyes to check for signs of concussion, testing their reflexes, asking them to describe any pains or symptoms. They had reported none. The presence of their automail collars had been noted in the report, along with "self-reported pre-existing burn scars" on their heads, which they had "declined to show."

"There's something strange about those girls," she muttered aloud—to herself, since there was no one there to hear her. Even if they'd been inclined to listen.

-o-o-o-o-

Hughes' eyes took in Roy's glum expression, then swept back across the courtyard to Hawkeye, who stood with her back turned, irritably turning pages on her clipboard. "Oh geez, are you two arguing again? When are you ever going to—"

"Save it, Hughes," Roy cut him off with a wave of his hand. "We've got other things to worry about." He scowled towards the laboratory building. All potentially entry points had been sealed with granite and inscribed with transmutation circles that would negate any further alchemy. Nothing short of a bulldozer would get them inside now, and that would hardly escape the military's notice—assuming there was even anything left to find. "Looks like we've come up short. Again."

"About that." Hughes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "We may have gathered more intel than you think. I haven't gotten around to telling you, but I've hired someone very useful." He turned toward his subordinates, busy stringing up yellow crime-scene tape over the courtyard entrance. Among them was a young woman with short brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses, awkwardly out of place in a uniform skirt and heels. "Hey, Sheska!" Hughes called, motioning her over. "Come and introduce yourself."

The girl picked her way carefully across the rubble-strewn courtyard. She was a civilian employee, Mustang noted by the absence of insignia on her uniform collar. "Yes, Lieutenant Colonel?" she said uncertainly, eyes swiveling between him and Roy.

"This is Sheska Hamilton, former employee of the Central Library. Tell Colonel Mustang here about your special ability."

Sheska swallowed. "W-well, I like to read a lot." She rubbed the back of her neck uncertainly. "And-and I'm really good at remembering what I read." Hughes nodded at her to continue. "I can write it all down afterward," she continued with slightly more confidence. "Anything I've ever read. Even whole books! Um, if you need me to."

Roy stared at her in amazement. "You mean you have photographic memory?" She nodded, and he let out a low whistle. "You're right, Hughes. Your new hire could come in _very_ handy in our line of work."

Hughes was smirking. "She already has. Tell him what you did tonight, Sheska."

"Er…" She rubbed the back of her neck again, her face reddening slightly. "Lieutenant Brosh and I did what you told us. He bumped into Brigadier General Grand's aide and made him drop all the files he was carrying, and I helped pick them up. I didn't see all of the pages, but, um, I looked at a bunch." She tapped the side of her head. "As soon as we get back to the office I can write down what I saw. I don't know what it means or anything, but if it'll help…"

Both men were grinning now, and Hughes clapped her on the shoulder. "You did great, Sheska. We'll go back as soon we're finished here—"

"No way," Roy cut in. "My team and I will finish mopping up this place. _You_ get Ms. Hamilton back to the office right now." His eyes met those of his friend with a rare glimmer of hopefulness. "I want to hear your report first thing in the morning."

"Well, I won't argue with that." Hughes brushed off his hands. "You heard the man, Sheska. Let's get out of here!" Hughes signaled to his remaining subordinates that they were leaving, and the pair headed for the courtyard exit.

"Hey, Hughes!" Roy called after him. He wasn't even sure why. "Just—be careful, all right?"

"You know me, Roy. I'm always careful." Hughes offered a wink and mock salute before turning away. Then he was gone.


	10. Flight

Chapter 10: Flight

_Eleven Years Ago  
>Downtown Central City<br>_

"Are you sure your brother won't scare her, Vince?" Lavinia and Vincent headed up the walkway of a nondescript apartment complex, Lavinia carrying a sleeping Kayla slung over one shoulder. "He can be a little…exuberant."

"Relax, Lavi. I told you, Maes is great with children," Vincent smirked. They had reached the front door, and Vincent rang the bell marked HUGHES. Two stories above their heads, a man's figure waved at them from a backlit window, and in another moment the door granted them access with a buzz.

Two flights of stairs up, they found themselves ushered into a small, plain apartment. "It's been ages, Vince!" Maes exclaimed, pumping his brother's hand. "Lavi, you haven't changed a bit." He gave her a chaste hug and peck on the cheek. "And this must be the little girl I've heard so much about?" He gestured at the bundle on Lavinia's shoulder.

"Her name is Kayla," Vincent offered. The four-year-old child in the small knit hat and automail collar was stirring now, a sleepy fist rubbing her eyes. "Kayla honey, this is your Uncle Maes. Say hello." She stared uncertainly at the stranger.

"Hi there, sweetie! It's great to meet you!" he greeted her perhaps a bit too loudly; startled, she buried her face in her mother's neck.

"She's shy around strangers," Lavinia apologized with a chuckle. "Since she's still half asleep, could we let her lay down somewhere until dinner's ready?"

-o-o-o-o-

Awhile later, Kayla awoke to the smell of food. She sniffed the air: it smelled like her mom's spaghetti, only maybe a little burnt. She found herself lying on a narrow bed, still made with its sheets and blankets tucked neatly beneath her, her father's coat draped over her for warmth. She was in a darkened bedroom, a sliver of light visible from the slightly open door, the clink of pots and pans and adult voices spilling in with it.

"—think it's still edible, anyway," the strange man was chuckling. "This is what you get when you let a bachelor cook dinner. And a military one at that."

Kayla pulled herself to the edge of the bed and looked around the room. There were only a few possessions visible (a hairbrush on a dresser, a polished pair of boots on the floor, some books on the bedside table), all of them tidily arranged. It looked, she thought, like a lonely place. Creeping over to the open door, she peered out and observed as the adults continued talking.

"I can't believe you aren't married yet, Maes," her mother was teasing. Her parents sat on stools at the kitchen counter, drinking glasses of red wine while the man bustled around his small kitchen, stirring a few pots and pans. "You need a female presence in your life."

"Don't I know it," the man agreed cheerfully. He dried his hands on a red and white checkered dishtowel, then pushed up his glasses. "As a matter of fact, there's something I wanted to tell you two. I've finally met the woman I'm going to marry!" His face split in a grin, a happy, faraway look in his eyes.

"That's great news!" Kayla's father exclaimed, giving the man a friendly punch to the shoulder. "Who's the lucky lady?"

"Her name is Gracia. She works at a little café near Central Command where I eat lunch every day. And she's perfect!" He leaned his elbows on the counter, propped his chin on his hands and sighed, the faraway look in his eyes intensifying. "She's beautiful and kind, she's a great cook, and she loves children. I'm completely smitten! She'll make the _perfect_ wife and mother."

"Have you two set a date yet?" asked Lavinia.

"Well…not exactly," Maes admitted.

"But she said yes?" prompted Vincent. "I mean, you've asked her already?"

"I haven't really gotten to that point yet. I want everything to be perfect."

"That's understandable," Lavinia agreed. "So when do we get to meet her?"

"Er, well, that might have to wait awhile." Maes rubbed the back of his head, his cheeks reddening. "I haven't actually asked her to be my girlfriend yet. Or even to go out on a date." There was an awkward pause; Vincent coughed quietly as Lavinia took a generous gulp from her wine glass. "But I can see our whole future in front of us," Maes continued, his hand waving toward some imagined vista. "I know she'll say yes! I'm just waiting for the perfect moment."

"You mean you're still trying to work up the nerve?" Vincent teased gently.

"Yeah," Maes sighed, shoulders slumping. "You got me." Still leaning on the counter, he gave a lopsided grin. "I just don't want to blow this chance, you know? I look at you two, and I think, what I great life! A happy marriage, an adorable child…the whole package. I want all of that."

Lavinia grinned. "You'll get there, Maes. I have no doubt about it. Any wife and child would be lucky to have you." She raised her wine glass as if in a toast.

"I'll second that," Vincent laughed, raising his own glass.

"But don't wait too long, OK?" Lavinia continued. "You don't want some other customer to move in and sweep her off her feet first," she chuckled. Maes nodded, paling slightly at the prospect.

Kayla meant to keep watching silently from her doorway, but a speck of dust made its way up her nose, and before she could stop it, she sneezed. Three pairs of adult eyes turned her way.

"Ah, look who's up!" Maes exclaimed. "Come on out, little one. I'm just about to serve dinner." Smiling kindly, he beckoned for her to come to the kitchen, her parents nodding their encouragement. She crept out cautiously. The man might be a little weird, but he seemed like a nice person. And she _was_ hungry.

As the girl and her parents settled at the small kitchen table, Maes busied himself at the stove, dishing up plates of spaghetti with dramatic flourish. "Here you go, sweetie," he declared as he laid the first plate in front of Kayla. Atop the noodles and sauce he had lain out a smiley face, with meatballs for eyes and a swoop of parmesan cheese for a mouth. She let out a slightly mechanized giggle, and he beamed in response. She decided she liked this new uncle.

As Maes retreated to the stove to fetch the remaining plates, Vincent elbowed his wife and smirked. "See, what did I tell you? Maes is _great_ with children."

"He really is," Lavinia agreed with a grin. "I meant what I said. He'll make quite a family man someday."

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Central City Residential District_

Kayla lay awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling as she willed herself to fall asleep. From the other side of her double bed came the sound of Brooke's steady breathing, having had no trouble surrendering to sleep herself. Outside the bedroom door the rest of the house was quiet; Kayla had heard the muffled voices of the four adults talking for the last hour or so, but they had finally gone quiet. Ed and Al had long since gone back to their dormitory—whatever shape it might be in after the fire—to pack what remained of their possessions and for Ed to get whatever sleep he could. In the morning they would buy train tickets and return to pick up the girls.

Despite the circumstances, Brooke was visibly eager about the journey ahead, excited even. But Kayla was only scared: of being caught by the military; of leaving home for the first time in twelve years; of being almost on her own in a strange, suddenly huge and terrifying world. She curled up on her side and hugged her pillow tightly.

At least she didn't have to face the journey alone, she reminded herself. She and Brooke had been at each other's sides since the beginning, and they always would be, whatever happened to them. And now, with Ed and Al…anxious though she was, she couldn't suppress a smile in the dark. They had barely met the boys two days ago, but already it felt as if they'd known them a lifetime. Her mind flashed to an image of Al's armor. If he could live through not having a body, she supposed she could survive having a feathered head and tail. And if he could walk bravely into Central Command day after day, knowing what they would do to him if they found out what he was, then she could work up enough courage to ride a train to Rush Valley.

_OK,_ she decided, _I can do this._ She rolled over on her back, replacing the pillow beneath her head, and slowly breathed in and out until she felt calmer. Gradually she felt her body relax, felt fatigue begin to tug at her thoughts. Soon after, she fell into peaceful sleep.

o-o-o-o

It was well past midnight before Hughes finished poring over the files Sheska had copied for him. They were incomplete, just random paragraphs she had managed to glimpse while picking up papers off the ground, but they told him enough. They had lucked onto a stash of classified statements from the human prisoners who had nearly been used as ingredients for a Philosopher's Stone. He could see why Command had wanted the files kept secret; many of the men had witnessed quite a bit of military involvement in illegal experiments, most notably by Grand.

There was more. His desk was heaped with files he'd had Sheska fetch from the Central HQ archives: the red water incident at Xenotime, the Liore uprising, the Ishvalan War, even the long-ago rebellions at Pendleton and Fortsett. The reports held the same descriptions of the shadowy people Ed had called "homunculi," and a handful of officers' names, over and over. Besides Grand there was Edison, Clemin, Gardner, Douglas…the last name stuck in his mind, nagging at him. Lieutenant Juliet Douglas, the soldier who had carelessly killed an Ishvalan child and started a civil war more than twenty years ago—one of many "accidental" provocations through the years. But he knew that name from somewhere else, somewhere more recent. Why was it so familiar?

He snapped the last file folder closed and pushed it aside. That question would have to wait. The patterns he'd found pointed to something big and urgent; much bigger than him or Roy, even bigger than a few rogue alchemists using children to make chimeras, as loathsome as that was. This was systemic rot in the heart of the military, corruption so vile that it threatened everything Amestris stood for. Hughes held his eyes closed, breathing deeply for a few moments before deciding he was sure. He couldn't wait until morning to tell Roy; he needed to take this straight to the Führer now. Bradley was known to all as a good and decent leader. He would surely put a stop to these war crimes and punish the conspirators—there was no one else who could.

"Sheska!" He stood, gathering up his notes. A young woman's figure stumbled into the doorframe, her face hidden behind an armload of files. "Never mind those, put them back. Put all of this back." His arm swept toward the file-strewn desk. "Get rid of any records of us checking out these files, and don't mention them to anyone. Got it?"

The stack of files teetered precipitously before being deposited onto a nearby chair. "Sure, Lieutenant Colonel," Sheska replied nervously. "But wh-what's going on?"

"Hmm? Nothing. Nothing's going on at all." Hughes gathered up a few more notes, careful to leave no evidence of his own work behind. He would be in very real danger if anyone found out what he'd learned—and so would anyone working with him. Hastily shuffling the papers in his hands, he headed out the door. "When you're done, go home," he called back over his shoulder. "Oh, and Sheska? You're fired! Don't ever come back here."

o-o-o-o

The brunette woman in the lavender suit, sitting calmly behind her desk, had been stonewalling him for ten minutes. "I told you, I can't say why. I just need to see the Führer immediately," Hughes snapped at Bradley's assistant. "It's a matter of national security."

"It would be best if you would just tell me what this is all about," she repeated smoothly, her eyes fixed on the files in his hands. "I can't let just anyone stroll into the Führer's office, especially at this late hour. I understand that the matter is confidential, but you need to tell me _something."_

He blew his breath out impatiently; he was getting nowhere this way. "All right." His heartbeat skipped as he prayed no one was listening in. "It has to do with a terrible conspiracy at the highest levels of the military. One that goes back decades. Is _that_ enough for you?"

The assistant blinked once, her only hint of surprise. Then she nodded. "Of course, I'll take you to see the Führer right away." She rose from her seat without a ripple in her placid expression and led the way down the nearest corridor.

Hughes followed, casting a wary eye around him. This wasn't the corridor to the Führer's office. And since when did an assistant barge in on an executive without ringing his extension first? His steps slowed uncertainly.

"I thought you were in hurry, Lieutenant Colonel," she turned back to remark lightly.

He hadn't caught her name before. Her long hair, cascading over her shoulders, had obscured her name tag, and he hadn't thought to ask it. But with that turn backwards, her hair had shifted and he'd glimpsed the name DOUGLAS.

His heart was hammering now, but he forced his feet to move, forced himself to catch up to her as they headed deeper into the corridor. There would be no going back now. "Say," he asked casually, "your first name wouldn't happen to be Juliet, would it?"

"Why yes," she replied, her voice tinged with a low chuckle. "However did you guess?"

"Just something I heard somewhere." Who was this woman? Just what was he walking into?

"The Führer's in this room," she smiled, halting in front of a closed door and gesturing for him to open it.

Hughes already had one hand in his pocket, fingering one of the push knives he carried for emergencies. "What am I really going to find behind that door, Ms. Doug—"

He would never find out. Instead the door on the opposite wall burst open behind him. Instinct took hold; he whipped around, the push knife flying from his fingers before the black blur hurtling toward him even snapped into focus. It was a woman. A shapely woman with knives for fingernails, wearing a long black evening gown, a large red tattoo peeking over her cleavage. He stared in shock; nothing he was seeing made sense.

His knife had hit her squarely in the forehead, the force of the blow knocking her backwards, leaving her propped awkwardly against the wall. She was utterly still, blood dripping past her open eyes and down her face—it had been a killing blow. But a moment later a crackle of red light surrounded the knife, and she reached a gloved hand up to pull the weapon free and toss it aside. Another red flash sealed the wound as if it had never been there. "That was unexpectedly skillful," she observed calmly. The words in Edward's report came ringing back to Hughes: Homunculi_. _Artificial humans with superhuman abilities. A chill surged through him as he stared.

"Quite unexpected," Douglas agreed behind him. Hughes swiveled back and forth between the women. Were they both homunculi? He reached for another push knife as they slowly moved closer, converging on him.

A loud report and the whiz of a passing bullet startled all three of them. "Lieutenant Colonel—_run!"_ Hughes' head snapped toward the far end of the hall, where Lieutenant Ross ran toward them, pistol pointed forward. She fired several more shots down the corridor, recklessly (what the hell was she thinking?!), but managed not to hit any of them. Hughes didn't wait; he sprinted down the hallway ahead of her, toward the nearest exit, trusting her to follow.

o-o-o-o

Kayla jerked awake, staring up at the dark ceiling above her bed. It was still the middle of the night. What had awakened her? Was it a noise? No, the room was silent. Brooke still breathed steadily beside her, sound asleep. The rest of the house was still quiet. _It must be nerves. _She closed her eyes and settled back on her pillow. _I should try to get back to—_

Her eyes flew open again, her heart pounding. No—something was _wrong,_ undeniably, earthshakingly wrong. Something she couldn't identify. She threw back her covers, climbed out of bed and ran to the window—why? What was she even doing? Kayla stopped and stared at her outstretched hand, saw a faint purple glow beginning to form around it. _Not this again, please—!_

But this time it was different. This time she wasn't afraid, felt no urge to scream. There was only an urgent sense of purpose. She didn't know what she was doing, only felt her arms move on their own as they lifted the window, felt the cool night air rushing against her face as she leaned over the windowsill.

o-o-o-o

"Lieutenant Ross, they're right next to the Führer!" Hughes panted as they ran, too overwhelmed to care if he was making sense. They had made it outside with no sign of pursuit, but he couldn't take the chance of slowing down. He led them on a circuitous path down sidestreets, through alleys, into a park he knew with an out-of-the-way payphone. Ross asked no questions; she simply followed warily, keeping a hand on the gun in her holster.

In the phone booth, Hughes dug into a pocket for spare change, swearing softly as he accidentally dislodged a photo of his wife and daughter, which fell to the ground. Gracia and Elysia smiled up at him as he frantically dialed Roy's number. He took a deep breath, focusing on the faces of his wife and child. He could have been killed tonight. He might never have seen them again. And they could be in danger now, too. He needed to find Roy, they would figure out what to do…but the phone continued to ring, ignored.

"No answer," he sighed heavily. Roy must still be at the Laboratory 5 site. He could reach his team by radio, but he didn't dare use a military frequency. The phone continued to ring in his hand as he weighed his options: Go find him in person? Or go home first?

"Who are you calling, Lieutenant Colonel?" Ross asked pleasantly. She was staring at him intently, a smile fixed on her face. "Surely it makes sense for us to share all the information we have. Who else knows about this conspiracy you've uncovered?"

"I haven't told anyone. I went straight to the Führer's office." There was something odd about the Lieutenant's appearance, some detail he couldn't quite place. Come to think of it, how did _she_ know about the conspiracy? Or that he'd gone to see the Führer? How had she shown up, just in time, to rescue him?

He placed the phone back in its cradle, finally recognizing the detail he'd been missing. "Why don't you tell me?" he continued. He drew a push knife from his pocket, held it up threateningly. "You know, Lieutenant Ross has a mole under her left eye."

"Is that right?" The imposter grinned. "I must have gotten careless." She lifted a finger to her left cheek, and a small burst of red electricity flashed against her face, depositing a mole in its wake.

"That's amazing," Hughes complimented the homunculus, trying to ignore the terror that clutched at his stomach. The creature leaped toward him and he reacted by reflex, slashing his knife across its throat, deep and hard enough to be lethal.

Hughes staggered backwards, only partly to avoid the blood that spattered out of the creature's throat. His legs nearly buckled beneath him. He wasn't a killer by nature—this was survival. If he was even that lucky. He watched fearfully for signs that this homunculus would heal like the other, would spring back up and retaliate. But it only made strangled sounds and twitched painfully on the ground for several moments, then fell still. Hughes let out the breath he'd been holding. "Forgive me," he murmured, staring down at the corpse that still bore Lieutenant Ross' likeness. "It's just that I've got a wife and daughter waiting for me at home." There was only silence in response. Finally, Hughes turned to walk away, shoulders slumped.

A flash of light and sudden motion from the corner of his eye told him he'd been stupid. "That was a pretty good act, huh?" the creature giggled as Hughes whipped around, push knife in hand, ready to confront—

Gracia. A perfect copy of his beloved wife stood before him, wearing the dress she wore in the photo he'd dropped. His brain knew it wasn't her, that the creature had merely copied her image, but his fingers hesitated in throwing the knife; and in that split second, the homunculus fired the gun.

_Something's dripping, _Hughes thought insensibly, staring at the splash of red liquid on the ground beneath him. His hand, unconsciously pressed to his stomach, came away red, and this time his legs really did buckle. The searing pain only registered after: _I've been shot._ It was a gut wound, not imminently fatal—but as he stared up at the twisted grin of the monster that wore his wife's face, still leveling the gun at him, he understood with terrifying clarity that the next one would be. He closed his eyes.

He never heard a second shot. Instead there was the feeling of something surrounding him, a warm and protective presence. _This must be what death feels like,_ he thought numbly. _Peaceful._ But when he opened his eyes, he was still kneeling on the ground in front of the phone booth, still facing the homunculus. Only now he had been joined by…a giant, glowing bird? He was sure he could make out feathers, iridescent blue flashing to translucent purple, as if he were being sheltered by a massive wing. Through the veil of energy he saw the homunculus pointing the gun and shouting something. Hughes felt energy surge around him, saw the bird's mouth blow out a stream of flames, engulfing the homunculus. The imposter screamed, then collapsed and fell still. This time it did not get up. Instead its charred form crumpled into ash, the remains picked up and scattered by the wind.

It took a moment for a stunned Hughes to find his voice. "What…who are you?" he asked the birdlike presence, which gave no answer in words. Instead, the entity dipped its—no, he decided, _her_—head and rubbed it against Hughes' own, emitting a soft purring sound. "Thank you for protecting me," he managed through a lump in his throat. "Whoever you are."

He tried to climb to his feet, but he had lost too much blood, was still bleeding. He didn't have much time left. "Home," he croaked, more to himself than the silent bird. "Need to get home…my family…"

To his surprise, the bird seemed to nod in understanding. She shook out her spectral feathers, then began to rise into the air. Translucent talons reached down and gently closed around his shoulders, lifting him along. By now the impossibility of what was happening barely even reached him. They rose high above the sleeping city, away from Central Command, soaring past the downtown and over the surrounding neighborhoods. Shivering as the cool night air rushed by, Hughes realized that his stomach had stopped throbbing, looked down and saw that he had somehow stopped bleeding. They were out over the suburbs now, and far below, he could just make out the contours of his own neighborhood. The bird circled in closer until they were over his house, and they began to descend, finally touching down on the soft grass of his backyard.

As Hughes reached the ground, his weight collapsed under him and he fell, physically and emotionally spent, into the grass. He rubbed a hand over his stomach, but there was no wound now, only a hole in his shirt and a pool of dried blood to prove that anything had ever happened. When he gathered the strength to look up, the ghostly birdlike presence was receding far into the sky. "Wait! Come back—!" he called, stretching his hand out to her. But with another stroke of her massive wings, she was gone.

o-o-o-o

Someone was calling Kayla's name, shaking her by the shoulder, but she didn't want to move. It was too cold.

"—la? Hey, Kayla! Are you OK?" Ignoring the voice, she curled up tighter, wrapping her arms around herself.

**_KAYLA! _** the voice yelled inside her head, and only then did the girl's eyes snap open.

"Huh?" She found herself curled up on the floor of her bedroom, her back pressed against a wall, with Brooke kneeling beside her. Above her head the window was open; that would explain the cold. "What happened?" she mumbled.

"What are you asking me for?" Brooke demanded. "You're the one sleeping on the floor. Why'd you open the window?" She stood up to slam the glass pane closed, then slid back to her knees. "What were you doing, sleepwalking?"

"I don't know." Kayla sat up and looked around. She could remember getting out of bed, going to the window... "I didn't scream, did I? Did anything catch on fire?!"

"No, relax. It wasn't one of _those_ times," Brooke chuckled.

"But I was…" Kayla stared again at her outstretched hand, this time seeing nothing but normal flesh, goosebumps prickling her skin.

"Hmm? No, it couldn't have been that. It would have happened to me too." Brooke waved airily, unconcerned. "You must have been sleepwalking. Do you remember what you were dreaming?"

"Dreaming. OK. That makes sense." Kayla shut her eyes, rubbed her forehead with the heel of her hand. She remembered little of the dream, just disconnected bits and pieces. "I was flying," she said hesitantly. "And I think there was a homunculus. Oh, and Uncle Maes was there. I'm not sure what else."

"Sounds like normal dream stuff. That's half the things we saw today." Brooke yawned and wrapped her arms wrapped around her knees, shivering. "Can we go back to bed now?"

Kayla nodded, yawning as she dragged herself to her feet, too tired to indulge any further doubts. "I guess we should get whatever sleep we can."

As the girls climbed back into bed and tucked themselves under the comforter, still shivering, Brooke added with a laugh, "I almost wish you _had_ set something on fire. At least it would be warm in here."

o-o-o-o

_"You idiot!" _Roy glared at Hughes as he lay in his hospital bed. "What the hell were you thinking, going off on your own like that?! You could have been _killed_—!"

"I know, I know," Hughes sighed, waving a hand in resignation. "It was stupid. I get it. Next time I'll call you first, believe me." He let out a sigh of relief. "It's all OK now, though. I don't know how, but I'm fine." He gestured at the IV needle dripping fluids into his left arm. "I don't even need this. It's just a precaution. Führer President's orders."

Roy ran a hand through his hair, calming slightly. "You said that Bradley debriefed you? What did he tell you, exactly?"

"That he's been aware of the conspiracy for some time. That he personally sent his assistant, Ms. Douglas, to infiltrate their network, and that she couldn't break cover to stop me from being attacked by…whoever those people were. The homunculi." Hughes shuddered at the memory. "But she reported to him as soon as she could, and he sent help."

"You were healed from a gunshot wound," Riza interjected. "And carried ten miles away. How is that possible?"

"It would have taken incredibly powerful alchemy, and abilities beyond anything we've ever heard of," Roy added.

"I don't know. He said it was classified." Hughes' eyes focused in the air above his hospital bed. The night's impossible events were a blur in his mind now, a by-product of adrenaline and blood loss. "What I thought I saw—maybe I was hallucinating. I was flying, and there was a lot of bright light. I'm not really sure of much else." He sighed again, shook his head. "In any case, I've been ordered not to pursue this any further. Bradley says they've neutralized the threat against me, so my family and I will be safe."

Roy frowned. "Assuming that Bradley's telling the truth," he murmured, quietly enough that no one who might be listening outside the room could hear. An unpleasant possibility that none of them wanted to contemplate. The trio lapsed into uncomfortable silence.

_It's all right now. _Staring at the ceiling, Hughes reassured himself for the hundredth time that night. _I didn't die. My family's safe. ___It will be all right._ _He believed that with all his heart, because he needed to. But he'd sent Gracia and Elysia to stay with Gracia's mother in West City for awhile, just in case.

Riza broke the silence. "Lieutenant Colonel," she asked, "what color was the light you saw?"

"Hmm? I don't know. Blue? Purple? I was kind of preoccupied with trying not to die." He genuinely couldn't remember. "Is it important?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Maybe," Roy countered. Riza shot him a look, and Hughes could have sworn he felt the temperature in the room drop ten degrees.

o-o-o-o

"Are you sure you have everything? Did you pack enough sweaters?" Lavinia wrung her hands as Kayla tugged a large suitcase down the stairs. It was so early that the sun wasn't even up; the girls would be catching the first train out of the city.

"I'm fine, Mom. I've got all kinds of stuff." The suitcase was so heavy it was difficult to move. Vincent stepped up and carried it the rest of the way down for her. Kayla hopped down the last two steps, brimming with nervous energy, with Brooke following quickly behind.

A ring of the doorbell ushered in Raven and Rick, carrying the suitcase they had gone home to pack for Brooke. "Won't be much longer now, I guess. The boys will be back soon." Rick observed. They all stood awkwardly in middle of the living room; he rested a hand on Brooke's shoulder as Raven hugged their daughter with one arm.

"Yeah. I guess this is the best time, then," Lavinia replied; she nodded to Raven, who reached into her purse and pulled out two rolled-up pieces of paper tied with ribbons.

"There's something we want to give you before you go," Raven said. "We were going to wait until your internship was finished, but under the circumstances…" She beamed at the girls. "Brooke, Kayla, you've both been excellent students. You've passed every test I've given you, and I don't have anything left to teach you." She handed a roll to each girl, her voice catching slightly. "These are your diplomas. Congratulations—you've graduated."

The girls accepted the papers numbly. "It won't be official under the military verifies that your internship is done, of course," Lavinia added. "And we don't know..." Her breath caught. "Well anyway, we wanted you to have these, for whatever comes next." She and Raven were both crying now, and the girls and even their fathers were struggling not to follow suit as they all exchanged a round of hugs.

Vincent excused himself to head upstairs. In a few moments he returned carrying a half-asleep Nina, a confused Alexander padding softly behind them. "She doesn't understand what's happening," Vincent whispered to Brooke and Kayla over the little girl's head. "Maybe that's just as well."

"Hey there, Little Sis." Kayla eased Nina into her own arms. "Brooke and I have to go away for a little while. You be good for Mom and Dad while I'm gone, all right?"

Nina nodded and rubbed her eyes, unable to stifle a yawn. "Can we play when you get home?"

"Yes. I'll definitely come back and play with you soon," Kayla replied.

_"Both_ of us," Brooke added, giving her a hug. "We promise."

Vincent took the little girl back with a regretful smile and headed back up the stairs. She was asleep on his shoulder before they even disappeared from view. After a quick pet from Kayla and a mournful _woof,_ Alexander trotted after them.

The doorbell rang—Ed and Al were back. The boys spilled into the living room, stiff and awkward amidst the families' emotional display. Once Vincent came back downstairs, the girls shared a last round of hugs with their parents; crying openly now, they said their goodbyes.

The sun was just beginning to rise as the four teenagers stepped out of the house and into the cool morning air, headed toward the train station. It was time to begin their journey.

o-o-o-o

As the first rays of the rising sun reached the window of the Führer President's office, Lust slammed her gloved hands on the surface of his desk and glared. "How dare you be so cavalier, Pride. Our brother is _dead!"_

Bradley leaned back in his chair. The goofy self-deprecation he wore for his human subjects was nowhere on display; now he flashed his sister a haughty smile. "Envy got himself killed because he was weak and stupid, Lust. Don't expect me shed any tears for him. He wouldn't have bothered for us."

"Fine, you didn't like him. He was still one of us. And you let the human who caused this just walk away—!"

"The soldier in question is no threat to us. He's an innocent caught up in forces beyond his understanding. I've told him a convincing story, and he'll trouble us no further," Bradley countered. Unmoved, Lust folded her arms across her ample chest and glowered. "If he walks away, the matter ends tonight," he continued coolly. "But if he turns up dead, that will only raise more questions. We can't afford any more unwanted attention."

The woman in the lavender suit, seated calmly to the side of them, coughed politely. "I agree with your approach, Pride. But it doesn't change the fact that whatever killed Envy is beyond _our_ understanding as well." Her voice was soft but firm. "There's something out there that's capable of killing our kind, and it's siding with the humans. What are we going to do about that?"

Bradley nodded. "Now that is a valid concern, Sloth. From the glimpses we got of it, the creature was definitely alchemical, and very powerful." He drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. "It might even be one of ours. A few of our experiments have gotten loose over the years, after all. I'll put Grand as soon as he reports in—capturing lab rats is his specialty."

Sloth relaxed and nodded, satisfied with the plan. "I'm sure the Brigadier General will be just as happy to avoid shepherding potential recruits around his laboratories," she added with a smile. Bradley chuckled.

"What are you two going on about?" demanded Lust.

"Just a couple of interns I was having fun intimidating earlier," he smirked. "No one special."

"I'm glad the two of you can have such _fun_ while our kind is being hunted," Lust snapped.

Bradley sighed. "Don't waste your energy worrying, Lust. Grand has the skills we need to track this creature and bring it to heel." The arrogant smile had crept back to his lips. "And if it can't be controlled, we'll do what one does to disobedient pets. We'll put it down."


	11. Orphans

_Author's Note: __The opening flashback of this chapter is set during the Ishvalan War, and contains battlefield violence that some may find disturbing. If that's not your thing, you can just skip over it and it won't affect your reading of the rest of the chapter._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 11: Orphans<span>

_Sixteen Years Ago_  
><em>Gunja District, Ishval<em>

The desert sun beat down mercilessly—fittingly enough—as the platoon picked its way through the remains of the Ishvalan town. Leveled by heavy artillery fire several weeks ago, it contained little that could still be identified as streets or buildings, only piles of shattered concrete and timber and burnt human possessions. And occasionally humans themselves; here and there a glimpse of remains missed by the Amestrian military's clean-up efforts could be spotted beneath the rubble. The debris formed an undulating series of hills that the platoon had to climb and descend as they moved toward the center of town. At least the extermination phase of the war was over; this was a recovery operation, rooting out the small pockets of Ishvalans who still clung to life and relocating them to authorized camps.

As they walked, Private Riza Hawkeye gazed out past the town to the desert horizon. The scene wavered and blurred; she rubbed her eyes, pinched her face to keep herself alert. They'd had to leave their transport trucks nearly a mile behind them where the ground was still level, hiking the rest of the way under 40 pounds of gear apiece in the burning sun. And she'd just come off sixteen hours' sentry duty before heading out with the platoon. It had taken considerable persuasion for her to be allowed to come at all.

She only knew a few of their names. The tall, dark-haired soldier with the pointy nose was Captain Alessandra. The jolly bald man was Warrant Officer Alberto. A young brown-skinned boy who couldn't have been more than eighteen was named Private Damino. And their commanding officer, of course. Major Roy Mustang strode confidently in the lead, grains of sand flecking his black hair and beige camouflage poncho, hands sheathed in white gloves embroidered with transmutation arrays that Riza knew well. She followed close, a step behind and to his right.

The highest visible point amid the wreckage was a square tower three stores high, probably one of the minarets that the Ishvalans used in their religious ceremonies. Its outer walls were heavily pocked with gunfire but it appeared structurally sound. With an expansive view of the shattered city, it was the best location to set up her sniper's nest and surveil ahead of the team. "Sir," Riza caught Roy's eye and angled her head toward the tower. "Request permission to deploy."

He shook his head, lips pursed. "No need. Intel says this town is quiet. We'll be in and out quickly."

"Sir, it would be safer—"

"We don't need a sniper, Private!"

She bit back a retort, narrowing her eyes into a glare that military protocol prevented her from aiming his way. Behind them she saw the men exchange uncomfortable glances. They began to slow their pace a bit, allowing Roy and Riza to drift ahead and continue their argument more discreetly.

"It's not that I don't appreciate you volunteering for this mission, Riza," Roy continued in a low voice as they walked, too quiet for the men to hear. "But you shouldn't have come. Command's working you into the ground as it is. I'd rather see you back at camp getting some sleep." His gaze moved sideways, taking her in for a brief moment. "Why did you insist on coming? Why this mission?"

"Because you're getting too complacent, Roy," she snapped, keeping her own voice low. "You're letting your guard down. It's going to get you killed—soon."

He shook his head firmly. "That's extremely unlikely. The Ishvalans are running out of bullets and fighting-age men. The survivors we're rounding up are starving. This war is all but over."

"They're cornered and desperate. You're in more danger than ever—I can feel it."

He turned to look at her fully, an eyebrow cocked in surprise. "So you dragged yourself all this way out into the desert with us…on a hunch?" She gave no reply, only narrowing her eyes further, keeping her gaze focused on the rubble-strewn path in front of them. "Look," he went on. "I understand that you want to protect me. But I'm a State Alchemist. I'm not exactly helpless on my own. And you…" This time she did turn her glare toward him, challenging. "You're _exhausted, _Riza," he finished. "Whatever danger you think you're sensing, it's probably just sleep deprivation and combat stress. They can make anybody go cra—"

"Major Mustang!" a blond soldier behind them interrupted, saving Roy from the rare experience of Riza losing her temper in earnest, military protocol be damned. "Center of town's over here, sir." He pointed to the right. "There's signs of occupation."

They had reached the central square. It fronted the broken shell of an Ishvalan temple about sixty feet away, recent footprints filling the dust leading to the structure. The town's survivors had likely gathered here to take refuge. Riza tensed and drew her handguns. This would be the most dangerous part of the mission.

Roy hopped up on a small mound of rubble a few feet above the rest of the team. The other men stood waiting calmly, hands resting near their undrawn guns, but with no air of urgency or threat. They'd all been through missions like this before, expected no trouble. "Private Hawkeye, stand down," Roy ordered sternly. "Put your guns away. The last thing we want is to cause panic."

_Idiots,_ thought Riza as she reluctantly holstered her guns, keeping her hands on the grips. _If I were the Ishvalans, this is exactly when I'd strike._

Cupping his hands around his mouth, Roy called out toward the temple: "Ishvalan refugees! This is the Amestrian military. We are NOT here to hurt you. Cooperate, and you'll be taken to a safe location with food and shelter." He paused, letting his words sink in. "We'll only use force if you offer resistance."

An agonizingly long moment passed. At last a shuffling sound echoed from behind a portion of wall, and a child's slight form peered around it. A girl of maybe 10 or 11, thin and filthy; she wore the tattered remnants of a traditional Ishvalan dress and striped shawl, a makeshift pack slung over her shoulders. She held her hands behind her uncertainly.

"Hey little girl, it's OK. Come on out," crooned Alessandra, motioning her forward. "We're not gonna hurt you. Is anyone else in there with you?" The girl shook her head solemnly. She appeared harmless, but Riza was gripping her pistols so hard her hands were turning white.

Alessandra began to edge closer, slowly enough not to frighten her. Her face drawn and subdued, the girl stepped out from behind the wall, her hands still clasped behind her back. "Ishvala protect us," she called out in a clear voice. "Ishvala forgive us." She brought her hands forward, and it was only then that they saw the detonation switch.

It happened as if in slow motion. Riza heard curses erupt from the men, saw Roy raise his hand to snap his fingers and destroy the threat, far too late. His hand was still moving as Riza tackled him, her momentum carrying them both backwards off the mound as the explosion hit them.

Hot. Everything around her was hot—the air hurt to breathe, the ground and even her clothes seared to the touch. An insanely loud ringing drowned out every other sound. Riza came to her senses slowly, found herself lying huddled on top of Roy, both of them singed but otherwise unhurt. The rubble mound behind them had blocked the worst of the blast.

She slid off him and sat up, feeling pinpricks burning her scalp, her hands. Tiny flaming cinders were falling around them like snowfall, hot enough to hurt but too weak to light anything else on fire. Beside her Roy was standing up, staring toward the site of the explosion, his lips forming words that Riza read as more curses, inaudible over the ringing in her ears. Reluctantly she stood and turned to look.

Carnage lay before them. She made out splashes of blood and scattered body parts; a quick headcount of the remaining troops told her three had died instantly, Alessandra among them. Two others lay with missing limbs, screaming—the ringing was fading, she could hear them now—as she and Roy rushed over to them, joining the other soldiers. But the grievously wounded men were too far gone. There was nothing any of them could do as their screams dwindled into silence.

Five dead. The remaining seven had injuries of varying degrees: deep cuts, severe burns, broken bones, painful and debilitating but not immediately life-threatening. Only she and Roy had escaped unscathed. Only because of her hunch.

She took no pleasure in having been right, not when it hurt this much. Roy avoided her gaze, still muttering curses under his breath as he motioned to Damino to hand him the comm. Defeat filled his eyes as he radioed in the call.

"Command," he said huskily. "Mustang Platoon reporting from Gunja district. Heavy casualties." He swallowed. "Notify all teams that the Ishvalans have changed their tactics."

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Rush Valley_

"I don't get it, Winry. Why are you being so nice?" Ed demanded.

"What? I'm always nice!" the blonde girl insisted, with a nervous chuckle that spoke volumes otherwise. She was squinting in concentration at Ed's right arm, carefully turning a screwdriver deep inside the automail, much of which lay in pieces all over her workbench. They sat in a dusty workroom that smelled of machine oil and metal, part of a small shop called _LeCoulte Automail_ on a narrow Rush Valley street. "You're the one that keeps losing your temper and breaking my masterpiece."

"Yeah, and you usually come after me with a wrench!"

"Oh come on, Win," interjected Winry's friend Paninya, watching with elbows draped on the workbench and a knowing smile. The daughter of the shop's proprietor, she had dark skin and sported a burly automail arm on her right side. "Admit that it broke this time because you forgot to put in one of the screws—"

"Ha ha, Paninya! Be a pal and grab my socket wrench, won't you!" Winry laughed loudly, clasping a hand behind her head. Grinning, Paninya pulled a tool off a rack on the wall and handed it to Winry as Ed looked on in confusion.

It took Winry only a few moments to gather up the scattered parts and deftly piece the arm back together. "Can you move it now, Ed?"

Ed clenched his fist, turned his wrist from side-to-side and bent the arm at the elbow. "Good as new," he pronounced. He narrowed his eyes and added playfully, "As expected, Automail Geek."

"Good. Now don't break it again, Alchemy Freak," she shot back, slapping him playfully on the back of the head.

"Hey! What happened to 'always nice'?" Ed protested.

As the two continued to tease each other, Al turned to Brooke and Kayla, perched on crates in a corner of the workshop out of the way of the repairs. "They always argue like this," he chuckled in embarrassment. "We've known Winry forever. We all grew up together in Resembool."

"She's amazing!" Kayla gushed. "Being an automail apprentice at our age—can you imagine that, Brooke?"

"Hmm. Yeah," Brooke replied. "Amazing." She pretended to study their surroundings while keeping a sideways glance on the pair. Winry was a cute girl, fifteen like them, but who carried herself with the confidence of someone five years older. She wore mechanic's coveralls from the waist down, its sleeves knotted around her waist below a skimpy bandeau top, showing off a pair of slim but muscular arms. What kind of mechanic dresses like that? Brooke thought acerbically, shielding her thoughts even from Kayla. Who was this Winry person, exactly? More importantly, who was she to Ed?

And why, Brooke asked herself, do I suddenly care so much?

"All right," Paninya interrupted Ed and Winry with a laugh. "If you two can stop bickering for five minutes, let's make some dinner. My dad's fitting a leg on a client in Abbeville, so we're on our own for tonight. How about stew?"

"I don't know, Ed might freak out if you put milk in it," Winry taunted.

"Oh yeah? Well Winry'll probably try to put in ball bearings or someth—ow!" Ed flinched as she punched his left arm, but never broke his grin.

"You never learn, Brother," Al sighed.

"Thank you Al, I'm glad one of you has the sense to appreciate me," Winry declared with a theatrical wave of her arm, as she and Paninya disappeared into the hallway toward the apartment attached to the shop. Ed and Al followed; Brooke and Kayla hopped down off their crates and trailed after them.

_Hey. _Kayla's silent voice nudged at Brooke as they trailed. _You seem distracted. What's the matter?_

_Nothing. _Brooke flashed her friend a smile that she didn't feel at all. _I'm just hungry._

o-o-o-o

The "stew" turned out to be an unorthodox mix of chicken, sausage, rice, red beans, and a liberal dose of hot pepper. This was apparently normal for the LeCoulte household; Winry and Paninya eagerly scooped the mixture onto bread and wolfed it down unselfconsciously. Brooke smiled and ate more slowly, unaccustomed to the spicy food. She was used to thinking of herself as tomboyish in comparison to Kayla, but in the company of these rough-and-tumble mechanic girls, she felt positively delicate. Was this the kind of girl Ed liked? Winry sat between him and Al, exchanging humorous barbs, inside jokes and occasionally physical jabs with both of them throughout the meal, particularly Ed.

_What's the deal there?_ Brooke muttered sourly to Kayla. _Is she Ed's girlfriend or something?_

_What? No, I don't think so. They're just old friends, _Kayla countered, distracted. She was visibly having difficulty getting more than a few bites of the fiery stew down, alternating with frequent gulps of water as she smiled at her hosts to hide her discomfort. _Why? Are you jealous?_

_Of course not! _Brooke snapped, feeling her face redden. _Like I'd be interested in a hothead like Ed!_

Kayla coughed, and Brooke could tell that she was stifling a laugh. _Riiiiiiight_, she replied silently. Brooke turned and gave her a glare that threatened murder.

"Are you two OK?" Their exchange had caught Ed's notice.

"Just not used to spicy food," Kayla covered, wiping her lips demurely on her napkin. "Maybe I'd better switch to bread."

"Sorry about that," Paninya chuckled, gulping down a last spoonful from her bowl. "We like it hot around here."

Ed snorted. "Don't worry about it. Winry's cooking could kill anyone—ow!" The blonde girl smacked him on the head again.

"Keep that up and you won't get any apple pie," Winry threatened, then disappeared into the kitchen.

"Now you're fighting dirty," Ed complained.

Al, who had been sitting at the table with hands folded politely while the others eat, produced a notepad and pen and began scribbling. "Spicy food. I'm definitely going to have to try that when I get my body back!" he gushed. "I have a list," he explained to Brooke and Kayla.

In a moment Winry reappeared carrying the aforementioned pie, fresh from the oven. It did smell good, Brooke admitted to herself. She would probably enjoy it if she weren't so nauseated watching Ed and Winry act cute.

o-o-o-o

Meanwhile back in Central City, Maes Hughes was pacing the length of his living room, bored and restless._ Administrative leave, _Bradley had called it. _As a precaution following the duress you suffered._ Hughes was fine, physically and mentally, and the enforced time away from the office was no more necessary than the pointless night he'd spent in the hospital. But it wasn't as if he could disobey the Führer President, so here he was, stuck at home alone for a week. Gracia and Elysia wouldn't even be home from West City for a few more days, so he had nothing but time on his hands.

His thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. He crossed the living room in a few steps and flung the door open before even pausing to wonder who it might be.

A familiar brunette figure stood on his doorstep, blinking anxiously behind thick glasses. "Sheska!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" She was wearing her work uniform, he noted, and she carried a briefcase.

"Er, I know you said I was fired and all, but…" One hand rubbed the back of her neck. "You were acting kind of weird and I wasn't sure if you meant it. I couldn't find you, so I asked Colonel Mustang if he knew what was going on. He said that I was 'decidedly un-fired' and told me to bring you this." She handed the briefcase over to Hughes. "He said you'd need something to do or you'd go stir-crazy."

Grinning, Hughes cracked open the briefcase and leafed through the top few pieces of paper. The Morishita files. Mustang knew exactly what he needed, all right; and finally he had the time to be of some use to his friend. "You did well, Sheska. And yes, please consider yourself un-fired, starting this minute." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In fact, I suspect I'll be needing some files from Central Command soon. I know it's after hours, but head back to the office and stay close to the phone, all right?" He tried not to notice as her shoulders sank.

o-o-o-o

It was past 10:00 P.M. when Roy Mustang found himself walking down 3rd Avenue in downtown Central City. He had taking to walking the streets on nights like this, when anxiety and suspicion got the better of him, drove him from the confines of his apartment. What he really wanted was to go see Hughes, but didn't dare. His friend might be satisfied with the Führer President's tidy explanation of the homunculus attack that had nearly claimed his life; but Roy was too distrustful, too conditioned by experience to look past the military's official story. To his mind it was much more likely that Bradley and the rest of Command were in the thick of the conspiracy. If that were true, then Hughes was already in a precarious position, and the last thing he needed was to be seen conspiring with the troublesome Flame Alchemist.

So Roy simply walked, staring straight ahead with his hands jammed in his pockets—he hadn't bothered changing out of his uniform after work—and his black coat draped over his shoulders against the early Spring chill. He barely glanced at the windows of the shops and restaurants he passed, only a few of them lit up at this hour. Not until he passed a particular late-night café, where the corner of his eye caught a familiar blonde figure sitting at a table by the front window, her eyes cast downward, intently reading.

Riza didn't glance in his direction as he pushed his way through the door, but she showed no surprise when he pulled up a chair and sat down across the table from her. "I'm off-duty," she reminded him curtly, eyes fixed on the folder in her hands. She had changed into civilian skirt and sweater, letting her hair fall loose across her shoulders.

"So am I," he replied lightly. A second file folder lay on the table—a medical file from the looks of it. "What's all this?"

"None of your concern." But she didn't move to stop him when he picked up the second file.

The label on the folder read _HUGHES, KAYLA M._ "What the hell…isn't this Hughes' niece?" Roy flipped through the file. It was a record from Central Hospital, detailing injuries sustained by a three-year-old caught in an apartment fire, as Hughes had described. There was a note that her surname had been changed due to adoption. "You're investigating her? Why?"

"And her friend." Riza took the file out of his hands, stacking it on the table with the other file; he made out _ARMSTRONG, BROOKE L._ on the label. "There's something strange about those girls, whether you see it or not," she continued. "The identical automail, the way they keep their heads covered, the purple energy when they touched the transmutation circle—" She leaned forward, her tone growing more strident. "And their age, Roy! They're the same age as the Morishita girls would be now."

So far Roy had heard nothing but coincidence and the whims of teenage fashion trends. He fought to keep the skepticism from his voice. "So a pair of child chimeras somehow managed to escape the military, and they've been living normal lives in suburban Central City all these years? Right under Command's nose?"

"Why not? They went _somewhere_ twelve years ago. Maybe they've survived all this time by hiding in plain sight."

He sighed. "That's a lot of conjecture. But let's say you could be right." He inclined his head toward the files. "Is there anything in there that backs up your theory?"

There was a pause. "No. The medical records are consistent with the history Hughes gave us." She exhaled slowly and rubbed her forehead. "But I'm still looking."

She was tired, Roy could see by the drawn look in her eyes. They both were. Between the Nina Tucker case, and Laboratory 5, and Hughes nearly getting himself killed…it was too much to process all at once. And of course it had all stirred up memories of the Morishita case for both of them, reminded them of how badly they'd failed.

He reached across the table and took her hand; surprisingly, she didn't pull away. "Riza," he began gently. "I know how much you want this to be true. And I might be willing to go along with it, if it were anyone else's family. But this is Hughes we're talking about. He wouldn't keep something like this from us—he just wouldn't." Her eyes flickered skeptically, though she didn't argue back. "Listen," he continued patiently. "We've been running ourselves ragged for weeks. You've been working tons of overtime, and I can tell you're not getting much sleep. I think you're seeing connections that just aren't there—"

It was the wrong thing to say, he knew the instant the words flew from his lips. Her eyes narrowed coldly as she yanked her hand back from his. "I suppose," she snapped, "you're going to tell me it's all in my head?"

"I didn't mean—" She was already standing, grabbing her files, her face cold with fury. "Riza, wait! _Please." _Unmoved by his entreaty, she strode for the door and disappeared into the night without sparing him another glance.

Roy slumped back in his chair, blackness overwhelming his thoughts. Hughes was right: he was an idiot. And it seemed he would never, ever learn.

o-o-o-o

Fifty miles to the southeast, the Ishvalan man with the X-shaped scar on his face lay in restless sleep.

_Pain. Explosions. His face was burned, his arm throbbed in agony—but where was his brother?! The only reply was the cruel laughter of an Amestrian alchemist._

Scar jerked upright, ready to crush the alchemist's skull with his bare hands—but there was no one there. Nothing except the ghosts that had stalked his dreams since that night during the war, the night he'd awoken and found his brother dead, his brother's alchemy-tattooed arm somehow transplanted onto his own body. Now that arm glowed and pulsed red in the darkness as his mind roiled; but seeing no threat, Scar breathed deeply, willed it to rest. The glow slowly faded.

Where was he? He was sitting on an Ishvalan-style sleeping mat, his head and midsection swathed in bandages. The walls around him were fabric that stirred in the breeze—a tent. He remembered now. He'd been badly wounded in the battle at Laboratory 5, and made his way to the only place a man like him could turn to for help: an Ishvalan refugee camp. One of the wretched internment ghettos set up by the Amestrian military for the fraction of his people they hadn't bothered killing.

The front of the tent rustled as Scar's every muscle tensed. But it was only a young Ishvalan boy who poked his head through. "Oh hi, you're awake!" he called cheerfully, pushing the rest of the way inside. He wore a kerchief tied over his dark hair and a friendly gap-toothed smile. "Hey mister. The healer sent me to check on you." He was carrying a bowl of something steaming, a spoon sticking out from it. The faint smell of soup reached Scar's nostrils and his stomach growled. The boy thrust the bowl at him. "Here, have some dinner," he grinned.

Scar took it from him and began to greedily slurp from the bowl. The soup was thin, with just a handful of noodles and a few token shreds of chicken, but it was enough; in a few moments he had wolfed it all down. He wiped his mouth roughly with the back of his hand. "Thank you for your kindness. Now it's time for me to go." He staggered to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his head and lancing pain from his broken ribs. He was certain he hadn't been followed here, but every moment he stayed increased the risk to this innocent boy and the rest of his Ishvalan brethren. And he still had much to accomplish.

"Hey wait, you can't get up yet!" the boy exclaimed. He ran over to Scar just in time to catch him as his legs buckled, easing him back down to the mat.

Scar struggled to regain his footing, fighting the boy's hands as well as his own fatigue. "No, I have work to do!" he exclaimed in frustration. His head was swimming. "I must continue…Ishvala's…work…"

The boy sighed in childish exasperation. "You can't do any work if you fall over dead, right? I'm pretty sure Ishvala won't mind if you go to sleep for awhile."

Scar's gave up struggling, his will to fight waning. Waves of exhaustion rolled over him. Perhaps a short rest would be all right, he decided, laying back on the mat with his eyes already drifting closed. A faint smile touched his lips. After all, who was he to argue with the logic of innocents?

o-o-o-o

Brooke awoke early the next morning, tilted rays from the sun just beginning to slide through the window above her head. It took her a moment to remember where she was as her eyes focused on the crates towering around her, the sharp scent of metal prickling her nose. She and Kayla had bedded down on the floor of a spare bedroom that doubled as storage space for automail parts. Beside her Kayla still slept peacefully, breathing deeply as she lay curled up on her side, hugging her pillow. "Hey." Brooke nudged her friend's arm with an elbow. "Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up." A lengthy melodramatic groan emerged from Kayla before her eyes snapped open.

Twenty minutes later they had made their way downstairs to the kitchen, where they watched Winry brew coffee on an old battered stove while cheerfully filling them in on life in Rush Valley. "There's not that much to do here if you aren't into automail, I guess, but the people are really nice. Once you get to know them. Hey, how long are you guys going to be in town, anyway?"

"Er, we don't know," Kayla answered. "We came here so Ed could get his automail fixed, and that's done, but…" She looked to Brooke, who shrugged.

"We aren't exactly in a hurry to get back to Central," Brooke finished, "but we don't have any plans."

"Yeah, that sounds like Ed and Al's style." The coffeepot began to boil over and Winry hastily moved it off the burner. After sweeping the kitchen table free of an errant set of gears (the boundary between the LeCoulte workshop and residence was apparently somewhat fluid), she set down three mismatched mugs and a bowl of sugar cubes and motioned for the girls to sit.

"You've known the Elrics for a really long time, huh?" Kayla prompted as Winry filled their mugs.

"Since we were babies. They're practically family." She scooped three cubes into her cup and stirred, gazing absently into the dark liquid. "My parents died when I was little, so I don't have any brothers or sisters. But Ed and Al are my brothers in every way that counts."

"Does that mean you and Ed aren't—" Brooke blurted, then regretted it as the blonde girl's eyes swiveled to scan her intently. Brooke felt her face redden. "He never really said anything, so I thought maybe you two were like...childhood sweethearts or something."

"What? No!" Winry burst out laughing, wrinkling her nose. "Eww! That would be gross for both of us."

"Oh, OK," Brooke laughed, more relieved than she wanted to admit. Kayla was giving her a pointed smirk, but she was saved from a round of teasing when Paninya stumbled into the kitchen, yawning and stretching groggily.

"Coffee. Good. Need," she mumbled as she helped herself to the coffeepot. After a few swallows she quickly perked up.

Outside the door a faint clanking grew steadily louder; presently Al's armored form appeared in the doorway, lugging in a large bag of groceries. "Good morning, everyone!" he greeted them cheerfully, the four girls greeting him in return.

"Everybody's up but Ed, huh?" Winry mused. "Time to get his lazy butt out of bed." She grabbed a large wrench from the counter and cackled evilly to herself as she headed for the stairs.

"Winry, wait! Even Brother's head can only take so much!" Al called as he hurried after her.

The kitchen door banged open again, this time to admit a tall, burly older man, his white hair wrapped in a bandana and a large toolbox dangling from one hand. "Oh hi, Dad!" Paninya called cheerfully. He stared at the room full of visitors, his expression sour.

"What the hell is all this?" he demanded.

"These are the friends Winry told you about. They're staying here for a couple of days. Winry fixed up Ed's automail, and he and Al fixed all our broken tools to pay us back. They're alchemists," she beamed, oblivious to the man's scowl.

"Do as you like," he shrugged finally, then disappeared down the hallway.

Paninya rubbed the back of her neck in embarrassment. "Don't mind him. He acts like the meanest guy in the world, but he's actually really sweet." She paused, then added in a conspiratorial whisper, "Never tell him I told you that."

"As long as we're not getting you in trouble…" Kayla worried, chewing her bottom lip. Paninya waved her off, cheerfully unconcerned as she refilled the girls' coffee cups. In a few moments Ed, Al and Winry burst back into the kitchen laughing, Ed rubbing his head as Al conspicuously held the wrench out of Winry's reach.

"So, um…" Brooke turned back to Paninya. Mr. LeCoulte had looked nothing like she'd pictured, his pale skin and blue eyes a stark contrast to Paninya's dark coloring. "If you don't mind me asking, are you adopted?"

In the process of handing Brooke back her mug, Paninya's hand paused in the air for just a moment. Then she continued, wearing a stiff smile. "Yes, I am," she said evenly. "Is there something wrong with that?"

"Of course not!" Brooke replied in surprise, accepting the cup. "Why would there be?"

"Yeah, we're both adopted too," Kayla laughed.

"Oh!" Paninya relaxed and broke into a smile. "I didn't know that."

"I guess that makes all six of us orphans, then," Winry chimed in as she poured a cup of coffee for Ed, then retrieved her own from the table. "What are the odds of that? We should make a toast or something."

"Who toasts to being orphans?" Paninya protested.

"To being _survivors," _Ed suggested, raising his mug.

"And to the people who took us in and gave us new families," Al added, "even though they didn't have to." They all clinked their mugs together at that, grinning, with Al using the wrench in place of a mug.

Paninya drained the last of her coffee and banged the mug down on the counter. "OK, onto the most important business of the day: breakfast!" she declared. She began rooting through the bag of groceries Al had brought back. "Scrambled eggs or omelets? Ooh look, bacon!" She and Winry began to negotiate what to cook as the brothers looked on in amusement.

_Do you think we are?_ Kayla asked Brooke silently as they continued sipping their coffee. _Orphans, I mean?_

_Probably._ Brooke answered. _I hope we are, anyway. What kind of parents would let a psycho alchemist experiment on their kids? _She shuddered.

_Like Nina, _Kayla agreed soberly. After a pause, she added hesitantly: _Hey…you don't think Morishita could be our dad, do you?_

Brooke nearly spit out her coffee. _Gross gross gross NO! Not a chance, ever!_

_OK._ Kayla grinned in relief. _I didn't think so either._

They looked up to find Ed watching their silent conversation, a bemused smile on his lips. Brooke smiled back, then quickly looked away as a blush crept up her cheeks.

_Not interested at all, huh?_ Kayla was laughing at her.

_I will hurt you,_ Brooke threatened with a grin.

BANG. All conversation, silent and otherwise, ceased as the door slammed open. A middle-aged woman stepped though the doorframe. She was tall and muscular, with pale skin and black hair in rows of braids tied in a ponytail. She pointed at the Elrics, who suddenly looked so petrified that their faces nearly turned blue. "Ed! Al! Did you really think I wouldn't find you?" she shouted.

"M-Master Izumi?" Ed squeaked. "What brings you here?"

The woman crossed the room in two steps, grabbed Ed bodily and flung him into the nearest wall.

"Brother!" Al cried out. He concern was repaid by the woman spinning on her heel, grabbing his metal bulk by the arm and slamming him headfirst into the floor.

"I'm here because of what MORONIC STUDENTS you two are!" the woman bellowed. As the four girls stared in shock, she grabbed each brother by an arm and began to drag them away as lightly as if they were dolls. "I'm taking you back to Dublith for a stern lecture!" A terrified whimper escaped from each boy as she dragged them out the door.

There was long moment of stunned silence in the kitchen. "Well then," Winry said finally.

Brooke and Kayla were on the move now, grabbing their belongings. "Looks like we won't be able to stay for breakfast," Brooke lamented. "Thanks for your hospitality."

"It was nice to meet you both!" Kayla called over her shoulder as she and Brooke ran out the door after the boys. Whatever weird thing was happening to Ed and Al now, it was clear they were going to have to keep up.


	12. The Definition of Family

Chapter 12: The Definition of Family

_Nine Years Ago  
>Armstrong Mansion<br>Central City Estate District_

The afternoon light shone brightly through the massive picture windows of the Armstrong estate's main drawing room, scattering sunbeams across the gleaming marble floor and mahogany furnishings. As the ornately carved grandfather clock in the corner ticked softly, Rick and Raven sipped tea from china cups, smiling politely toward Rick's parents and his two sisters. These family luncheons were formal, elegant affairs, albeit mercifully infrequent.

Philomena, the matriarch of the family, was a tall, thin older woman with a long face and blonde hair tied into a severe bun. She was currently expounding at length upon matters of progeny, Rick and Raven's in particular. "I'm not saying," she continued, "that she isn't a lovely child. Especially with her…challenges. It's wonderful of you two to have opened your home to a poor unfortunate. But—"

"Stop it, Mother!" Rick cut in. "She's not an 'unfortunate.' She's our daughter and we love her." He kept his voice measured, but at his sides his hands were clenched in irritation. Beside him, Raven's smile had tightened into stone.

"Oh, certainly." The older woman waved a hand in breezy dismissal. "A lovely child, considering. I am just making an observation," her voice rose an octave for emphasis, "that it's high time you had some children of your own. Some boys especially. We need someone to carry on the proud Armstrong lineage. And I'm simply in _despair_ of your older brother." Philomena sighed forlornly and clutched at her pearl necklace.

"We've just about given up hope on Alex," Rick's father Phillip chimed in mournfully. He was a short man with a bushy blond beard, mustache, and receding head of hair, all of which ended in curls. "I don't understand it. No matter how many eligible young ladies we introduce him to, he refuses to court any of them. Why, it's almost as if he has no interest in girls whatsoever!" He threw up his hands in befuddlement. There was a round of polite coughs from the younger adults.

"Don't worry, Mother and Father, I'm going to get married and have lots of babies!" piped up the delicate blonde teenage girl seated next to Philomena. "Just as soon as I find a man who's strong and kind and handsome." Her gaze drifted off into space, as she smiled to herself and swooned slightly at the thought of her imagined suitor.

"Oh Catherine dearest, that's why you're my favorite," Philomena crooned, pinching the girl's cheek affectionately. The teenager lit up in a proud smile, basking in the praise. "Of course as a woman, your children won't be able to carry on the Armstrong name, so that won't be enough," the older woman countered absently, failing to notice as the girl deflated. "I'm afraid it's all up to your brothers. If they don't step up, the Armstrong birthright will be doomed to perish forever." She passed a hand over her forehead, tears threatening. "Oh dear, I simply can't _bear_ the idea!"

"Now now, my darling, let's not think such thoughts. There's still time." Phillip put an arm around his wife, patting her shoulder like a child's. An uncomfortable silence fell on the room, broken only by her sniffles, as Rick and Raven avoided the others' gazes and snuck looks at the clock.

o-o-o-o

Out in the hallway, six year old Brooke watched the scene from her hiding place under the legs of a grand piano. Though she understood only some of what was being said, she was happy not to be part of the gathering of relatives, those strange, stuffy people with empty smiles and no interest in her at all. As she watched, Brooke unconsciously tugged at her knit hat to make sure it still hid her wolf's ears. Her parents had warned her not to reveal her secret to the rest of the family, whom they were certain wouldn't understand. All in all, the little girl was much happier under the piano.

"There you are!" a jovial voice boomed from down the hallway. A tall, burly figure with a blonde mustache, bald but for a single lock of blonde hair on his forehead, bounced into view. "You picked a good hiding pace, little one!" he declared approvingly.

Brooke grinned at the man, the only one of her relatives she actually liked. She slid out from under the piano and hopped up. "Now it's your turn to hide, Uncle Alex!" she sang out, her voice slightly mechanized through her automail collar.

He nodded, his gaze drifting past her for a moment to the adults in the drawing room. The grandmother was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and moaning something about "pedigree" and "_real_ future Armstrongs." A frown flashed across his face; in the next moment he scooped Brooke off the floor and raised her aloft on one huge bicep, back to his usual cheerful grin. "This is not a conversation for children to overhear. Come, you've been cooped up indoors long enough for today." In a few strides, his long legs carried them through a set of terrace doors outside to the garden patio. A warm breeze was blowing, carrying the smell of freshly mown grass and spring flowers. "Much better! Children need to play in the fresh air to grow up strong."

Still perched on his arm, a burst of energy made Brooke want to run. "Hey, put me down!" she ordered, laughing. "Or I'll beat you up!" She began to playfully pummel his shoulder with her small fists.

"Oho, I see you're already working on your fighting technique—excellent! That is the Armstrong spirit!" Chuckling, he twirled her around over his head until she shrieked with giggles. Then set her down on the ground with a flourish and pretended to return her punches, grinning playfully.

Brooke laughed. "Yeah, I'm gonna be tough! No one will mess with me!" They continued to shadow-box around the garden, laughing, until an errant punch from her uncle slipped over her head—and accidentally knocked her hat off.

She froze as she heard him gasp, saw astonishment cross his face as he took in the sight of her wolf's ears for the first time. No. No. They couldn't find out, not like this—! Petrified, she felt her legs weaken, sank to the ground. Her vision blurred by tears, she groped blindly at the space around her until she found her hat and clamped it back on her head, far too late. "P-Please, it's a secret, please don't t-tell anyone—"

"Little one!" He had recovered somewhat from his shock, and now he carefully lowered himself to the ground beside her, sitting cross-legged. "Dry your tears. I promise I will keep your secret," he told her gravely. He pulled a handkerchief from his shirt pocket and gently blotted the tears from her cheeks. "I can see that you are a very special child. More than any of us knew."

She sniffled and took the handkerchief from him, hands trembling as she rubbed at her eyes. "Does—does this mean I can't be an Armstrong anymore?" she asked in a tiny voice. "Because I'm different?"

"What? Nonsense!" he exclaimed. Her took her small hands in his huge ones, gripped them reassuringly. "Listen to me, little one. There is nothing wrong with being different! Never let anyone tell you otherwise. And _never_ let anyone tell you who you can or cannot be." He took a deep breath. "Wherever you came from, whatever happened to you before you came to us, you're an Armstrong now, and always will be. Do you understand?"

Her fear beginning to calm, she nodded. "But, Uncle Alex…" She bit her lip uncertainly. "Will you still be my friend?"

"Of course I will!" he roared joyously. He jumped to his feet, then took her hand and pulled her upright. "No force on Earth can break our friendship. That is the Armstrong way!" He scooped her up and perched her on his arm again. Forgetting her fear, she giggled, then hugged his massive neck. It was going to be all right.

"Uncle Alex, is being different the Armstrong way too?" she asked.

"It is now," he declared. "Let us make a pact, you and I, that we will pass this down to all the generations of Armstrongs that come after us."

"OK!" she grinned, relieved. "Wait—even if they're adopted? Or their names aren't Armstrong?"

"Of course! Being an Armstrong comes from the heart!" Grinning, he hoisted her high above his head and twirled her in the air once more. The girl's peals of laughter filled the air, her tears long dry now.

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Dublith, Seaside District_

"Remind me again," Brooke said to Kayla, "how is this legal?" As she spoke, she methodically whacked at a slab of sirloin with a cleaver. "Assault, kidnapping, forced labor…"

Kayla dumped a bowl of pork scraps into the sausage grinder and began working the handle. "I wouldn't say it's so much a _legal_ question." A sign above her head read _Curtis Meats._ "Do you want to be the one to go up against that woman? Even the police are probably scared of her."

"Probably." Finished slicing, Brooke put down the cleaver and shed her plastic gloves, sighing as she pushed her hair out of her eyes. They had been at this for hours. "If she weren't scary enough by herself, she's got that giant mean-looking husband backing her up. So I guess we're stuck here."

Kayla tied off the row of sausages and removed her own gloves. "At least if we ever want to see Ed and Al again. Where is this Yuck Island place they got dragged off to, anyway?" She sank onto on a wooden bench behind the butcher's counter, Brooke wearily joining her.

"No idea. Guess it's the scary lady's favorite place to beat the snot out of people."

"Ha ha ha, you've got it all wrong." The girls startled as Mason, the only employee of the butcher's shop besides the Curtis couple, glided into the workroom with a fresh crate of meat. He was a short, burly man in his mid-twenties with dark hair and a perpetually cheerful expression. "Izumi and Sig Curtis are good people. Sig looks mean, but he's really a nice guy. And Izumi might have a temper sometimes, but deep down she's got a soft heart."

The girls were regarding him skeptically; he shrugged. "Anyway, it's _Yock_ Island. That's the place Izumi took the boys when they first started their alchemy training, years ago. Left 'em there for a month to fend for themselves. Well, I was there too, keeping an eye on them, but they didn't know it." He heaved the crate onto the counter and began divvying up slabs of meat between the girls' workstations.

"That sounds awful. Weren't they little kids?" Kayla argued.

Mason shrugged. "They survived."

"How reassuring," Brooke replied drily.

Finished emptying the crate, Mason took a seat on the bench next to Brooke, fished a silver flask out of his apron pocket and took a swig. He had earlier established (after extracting a promise from the girls not to snitch) that he enjoyed sneaking samples of the sake his employers used to marinate the Kobe beef. "Izumi really cares about those boys," he continued, "like they're her own sons. And now that everything's gone all wrong, she's taking them back to the island to think things over."

"What do you mean, 'gone all wrong'?" Brooke echoed. "Do you mean the alchemy accident Ed and Al had?"

"Yeah. That accident." He took another swig; by now he'd had a few. "The thing is…Izumi had an accident like that once too. And she warned the boys not to ever make the same mistake. They swore they never would. But after they left their training here, they did it anyway." He paused, staring down at the flask as he turned it over in his hands. "When she heard about the famous Fullmetal Alchemist with the automail arm and leg, and the brother who always wears armor, and she realized it was Ed and Al, she flipped. She knew right away what they'd done. So she went to find them." He shuddered. "And here we are."

"So…" Kayla prompted gently. "Izumi had an alchemy accident too? What happened?"

Mason took another swig, a long one this time. A struggle played over his features as if he were deciding whether to tell them anything further. But the sake was making him chatty, and he went on.

"OK," he murmured. "Bu_t _you_ can't tell anyone_. She will literally kill me." The girls nodded solemnly. "A few years before Ed and Al came here, she got pregnant," he continued. "She and Sig were so happy! But something went wrong, and she lost the baby." There was a long pause. "I don't know what happened next, exactly. But that night she headed out to Yock Island by herself. When she came back, she was coughing up blood—a lot of it. And all of a sudden, she could do alchemy just by clapping her hands."

"Whoa," said Kayla. _She must have tried to do human transmutation, _she added silently to Brooke. _Just like Ed and Al._

_To save the baby._ Brooke agreed. _What else could it be?_ She turned to Mason and pressed on. "So is Izumi…OK now? Was she badly hurt?"

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth turned downward. "She still coughs up a lot of blood sometimes, if she overdoes it or gets really upset. But she's OK if she takes her medicine and gets some rest. I'm not an alchemist, so I don't really know how it works." He stared at the flask, perhaps regretting that he'd told them so much. Finally he stowed it back in his apron pocket and stood, smiling cheerfully as he pointed toward the stacks of meat waiting for them on the counter. "But I _do_ know there'll be hell to pay if we don't get these orders processed before Izumi and Sig get back. So let's get back to work."

o-o-o-o

Several hours later they were finally done, the refrigerated case behind the front counter stuffed with cuts of meat wrapped in brown paper, the customers' names and the date neatly penned on the outside. A steady stream of people had already come to pick up their orders; business was good. As the afternoon light began to wane, Mason closed up the storefront and led the girls through the back door to the Curtis' apartment.

He glanced up at the kitchen clock. "I guess they're gonna be late getting back. I'll go ahead and get dinner started." He rummaged around the fridge, emerging with a platter of raw meat. "Looks like it's broiled steak tonight," he grinned over his shoulder as he slid it into the oven.

"Well, as long as you're busy, why don't Brooke and I just go find something else to do for awhile…" Kayla murmured innocently, inching toward the kitchen door.

"Right!" Brooke concurred, following. "We wouldn't want to get in your way, so we'll just—"

"Not so fast!" Mason called over his shoulder. He turned around and thrust a bag of potatoes into Brooke's hands. "These need to be scrubbed before baking, and the carrots—" he reached into the fridge, grabbed another bag and handed it to Kayla "—need to be peeled and sliced. Then there's making the salad, and setting the table, and..." The girls' shoulders slumped as they resigned themselves to another round of forced labor.

But an hour later, the table was set and loaded with heaping platters of hot food, and the girls' stomachs were growling. Mason frowned through the window at the setting sun. "I figured they'd be home by now," he shrugged. "Well, we might as well eat. Go ahead and get started, I'll join you after I wash up." He disappeared through the kitchen door.

"I'm guessing 'wash up' is code for 'refill the sake flask,'" Brooke whispered with a smirk as they sat down, causing Kayla to giggle. Just as they reached for the food, they heard the back door to the apartment bang open and the commotion of people entering.

"Go through here," Izumi's voice drifted down the hallway, an uncharacteristically gentle lilt to her voice. "You must be starving, poor little thing." Brooke and Kayla exchanged puzzled glances—who she could possibly be talking to? They were even more startled when she strode into the kitchen…holding the hand of a young boy. He couldn't have been more than eight, with pale white skin and long unruly black hair, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Ed and Al trailed behind them, looking unhappy.

"Food!" the boy cried joyfully and ran to the table. Had they found him on the island? Without even sitting down he grabbed a fork in each hand, speared a steak on each one, and began alternating large bites, barely taking time to chew them before he swallowed.

Brooke didn't wait for an introduction; she was on her feet, every muscle tensed. "That boy," she whispered, pointing at his diminutive form. "He's a homunculus!" Kayla jumped up from her own seat with a gasp. Ed and Al stared at Brooke in alarm, their eyes darting back and forth to the child, still obliviously shoveling steak into his mouth.

"Master Izumi—!" Al protested.

"I told you he was dangerous—!" Ed yelled at the same time.

"_I know what he is!"_ Izumi snapped back, silencing them all. Her eyes burned black as she swept them over the group. The homunculus paused in his eating and stared, his earnest eyes wide and frightened.

The woman's voice softened. "Look at him," she commanded quietly. "He's innocent. He doesn't remember anything before today. However he ended up on Yock Island, whatever happened to him, he's alone and lost, and he needs our help."

The homunculus blinked at them, still bewildered as he swallowed his current bite. If there was any evil intent in him—or any intent at all beyond finishing his meal—it wasn't visible. Perhaps he _was_ just what he seemed, a lost and scared little boy. Chastened, the four teenagers stared at the floor.

"If that's settled," Izumi continued smoothly, "then let's sit down and have our dinner like civilized people." Her tone allowed no argument. The teenagers meekly took seats at the table, and Izumi began passing around the platters of food.

_This is bad!_ Kayla's silent voice held fear as she numbly passed the bread plate. _What if the other homunculi come looking for him? _

_I know, _Brooke replied, handing her the steak with a deep frown. _But Kayla, that boy isn't just a homunculus. Something else about his scent is familiar—really familiar. I can't place it, though. _

_Fantastic,_ Kayla replied sourly as she gripped the platter. _Like things weren't complicated enough already._ She scraped meat onto her plate without enthusiasm, no longer hungry at all. Ed and Brooke were pushing their own dinners around listlessly with their forks, while Al stared calmly at the table as usual. Izumi ignored her own meal as she carefully watched the boy. Apart from the homunculus, who was still shoveling food into his mouth with vigor, not much dinner was going to get eaten tonight.

o-o-o-o

Brooke and Kayla, settled into an upstairs guest room, had stayed awake late into the night talking silently about the day's developments. A little after midnight they finally ran down, and Kayla was just drifting off into much-needed sleep when she felt Brooke sit bolt upright beside her.

"I've got it! Kayla, I know what the boy's scent is!" Her eyes were wide with alarm.

"Shh!" Kayla admonished in a whisper. "Keep your voice down or you'll wake everybody up! What is it?"

Brooke's voice dropped. "He's part homunculus and…part Ed."

"What?" Kayla gasped. "What does that even mean?"

"I have no idea." Brooke shook her head. "But we need to find out. Let's go talk to that kid." She hopped out of bed and headed for the door, Kayla hurrying after her.

"Wait, shouldn't we wake up Ed and Al first?"Kayla whispered as they crept down the hallway and approached the door to the boy's room.

Brooke's hand paused on the doorknob, but just then they heard a crash from inside the room. Alarmed, she flung the door open to find—

Ed and Al were standing in the middle of the room staring up at the boy, who had somehow managed to turn his bed up on its end and was perched on top of it. Or was he…? Strangely, only the top half of his body was visible. He was bawling.

"What the_ hell?"_ muttered Kayla, gazing in shock at the boy who seemed, impossibly, to have partly disappeared _into_ the bed. "What did you guys do to him?"

"We didn't do anything! We were just asking him some questions—he did this to himself!" Ed protested over the boy's sobs.

"Brother scared him," Al conceded.

"Oh geez." Brooke palmed her forehead.

Before anyone could argue, Kayla took a few tentative steps toward the boy, then reached out her hand to touch his arm. There was a flash and sizzle of purple electricity, and the boy and the bed came tumbling down with a crash, separated once more. Kayla's legs swayed beneath her and buckled; Brooke quickly caught her under the shoulders before she fell. The boy's sobs turned to whimpers as Al stepped forward and helped him up.

"WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS GOING ON HERE?!" Izumi, disheveled and clad in pajamas, roared from the doorway. The teenagers froze and turned to face her, blood draining from their faces. The woman crossed the room in three steps, using two of them to shove Ed and Al respectively across the room. "Come here, sweetie." She took the boy into her arms and hugged him, finally quieting him. "All of you get out!" she bellowed at the four teenagers. They hastily complied, and the bedroom door was slammed shut behind them.

Out in the hall, Al nodded to Kayla. "Thanks for your help. But what are you two doing here?"

"I realized something." Brooke's lips were pursed in a line. "Ed, that homunculus…I don't know how, but somehow he has your scent."

The boys' eyes met. "Yeah," Ed replied, his voice uneasy. "We just figured that out ourselves." He swallowed. "We noticed that his right arm and left leg are a different color from the rest of his body. Like a normal person's. And…they're exactly like mine." He looked down at his automail limbs, a faint shudder rippling his shoulders. "He even has a scar on his arm that matches one I had as a kid."

There was a shocked pause. "You, you mean…he has _your_ arm and leg? Attached to him?" Kayla's voice was nearly a squeak.

Ed nodded soberly. "They were taken from me at the Gate of Truth. That must be where he came from." His mouth tightened into a scowl, his eyes far away. "That's why I don't trust that kid. I don't think he's as innocent as Master Izumi thinks. He can't be." Unconsciously, his hands clenched into fists.

"So what are you going to do?" Brooke asked in a whisper. "It's not like you can just…take them back."

"I know," Ed murmured. The question hung, unanswered, in the silence that followed.

o-o-o-o

"I said, w_hat have you done with the boy?!"_

Pressed against a wall, Ed struggled to escape Izumi's stranglehold. Seen through the kitchen window, the sun was just coming up; no one else in the household was awake yet. "I told you, we didn't do anything! Al, tell her!" On the floor, Al was dragging himself by one still-attached arm as he frantically tried to retrieve the rest of his limbs.

"Brother's telling the truth, Master Izumi—none of us have seen him since last night!" He reached his right leg and began fumbling it back into its socket. "Could he have gone somewhere on his own?"

With a deceptively casual flick of her wrist, she sent Ed flying across the room to crash into Al, knocking the leg from his hand. "Fine. Say I believe you—for the moment." The woman glared at the boys, arms folded across her chest. "You're going to help me find him before I change my mind. Get yourselves together. You have two minutes." She turned on her heel and strode from the room.

"Crap," muttered Ed, disentangling himself from Al. "That kid had better turn up before she kills us." He stood and began helping round up his brother's limbs. Hearing a gasp, he looked up and saw Brooke and Kayla staring at them from the kitchen doorway.

"Um, we heard some loud noises…" Kayla began, biting her lip as she took in the sight of the freshly bruised Ed and nearly limbless Al.

Brooke simply yawned, waving her arm toward the brothers. "Seriously, you guys. Should we even bother asking anymore?"

"ED! AL! NOW!" interrupted a bellow from the next room. The boys shuddered visibly. Ed quickly finished attaching Al's legs, then handed him the remaining arm as the two ran through the doorway toward the voice.

"We'll be back as soon as we can!" Al called over his shoulder, fixing the arm into its socket as he hurried away.

Brooke sighed and turned to Kayla. "Guess we're on our own again today. Let's sneak out of here quick, before we get chained to the meat counter again."

Kayla nodded, and the two quietly began to slip through the apartment, headed towards the back door. But a loud voice, drifting down the hallway that led to the butcher's shop, stopped them in their tracks.

"Ham, 100g, 128 cenz," Sig's voice boomed loudly. "Chicken breasts, 160 cenz." It wasn't so much the price list as the defiant tone he was bellowing it in. "Sliced beef chuck, 200 cenz."

Curious, the girls turned back and crept down the hall toward the voice. Now they heard a second man: "We're here on military business, citizen! If you know where the Elrics are, I suggest you tell me." His tone was barely polite with a faint undercurrent of threat.

"Mixed ground beef and pork, 98 cenz!"

In the workroom behind the storefront, Mason was peeking at the scene from the doorframe. "What's going on?" whispered Brooke as they joined him. Craning around him, she made out a pale, dark-haired officer with a pointy nose sneering at Sig. There was another soldier standing behind him, but from her vantage she could only see the edge of their uniform. Someone big by the looks of it.

Mason shook his head. "Soldiers looking for the Elric boys," he whispered. "Are they in trouble?"

The girls shared a glance. "Pretty much always," Kayla admitted. "This could be about the Laboratory 5 thing. Or the dormitory building that burned down, or—really anything." _Or us,_ she added silently to Brooke, an edge of fear creeping in. Brooke nodded grimly.

In the storefront, the unseen soldier shifted and stepped into view. Both girls gasped—it was Brooke's uncle Alex!

"You know that guy?" Mason whispered, puzzled. "Can you do something to make them go away?"

"Yes. Yes we can." Brooke turned to Kayla. _We need to let him know we're here, _she said. _Some kind of secret message, something only he would know. What can we use?_

A flash of inspiration crossed Kayla's face. "Stay right here," she ordered them both. "I need to get something." She disappeared around a corner. A few moments later she returned holding a bright blue feather. "Mason, can you take this out there and make sure they see it? Don't say anything about us."

"Er, I guess." He bit his lip nervously as he accepted the feather. Looking around the workroom, he grabbed a crate of chicken and headed out to the storefront.

_Did that hurt? _Brooke asked silently.

_Just a little, _Kayla smirked.

"Hey Sig, do you need any help up here?" Mason asked casually, heaving the crate onto the storefront counter and letting the feather fell to the floor.

"These men don't want to buy any meat, so I'm sure they're just leaving." Sig glowered meaningfully in the soldiers' direction.

"What is _that?"_ sneered the dark-haired man, pointing to the feather.

"Huh? Oh, we get weird feathers mixed in with the chicken shipments sometimes." Mason shrugged. "It's no big deal." At his side Sig looked puzzled, but kept quiet. Behind the sneering officer, though, a glimmer of recognition appeared in Armstrong's eyes.

"Colonel Archer," he said crisply, his stance snapping to military attention. "I believe we've learned all we can here. Perhaps it would be more productive to take another look around the town."

His eyes still on Sig, Archer's gaze narrowed into a glare. "Fine. We'll take our leave now—but rest assured that we'll be keeping an eye on you." He glanced contemptuously at the feather on the floor. "Perhaps a health inspection would be in order as well." He turned and strode from the store, with Armstrong following close behind.

The men breathed a sigh of relief that was echoed by the girls as they rushed into the storefront. "What was that all about?" Sig asked, gesturing toward the feather.

"Oh, um, I collect feathers," Kayla laughed nervously, one hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Blue ones especially. And Brooke's uncle knows that, so I figured if he saw it, he'd know we were here."

"Right!" Brooke smiled with an enthusiastic nod. The men exchanged confused looks, but shrugged and let it go. "Anyway," she continued breezily, "we'd better find Ed and Al and warn them. Let's go, Kayla." She grabbed her friend by the wrist and pulled her out the door. _Let's hope it's not bad news,_ she shuddered as they headed out into the street.

o-o-o-o

Ed, Al and Izumi had spent a half hour combing through the seaside town before they found anything of note. But it wasn't the boy they stumbled upon when they turned onto the narrow street. It was two soldiers, one of whom they knew quite well.

"Major Armstrong!" Ed exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, young Edward." The tall, burly soldier with the bald head and bushy blond mustache gestured at the officer beside him. "This is Colonel Archer, acting head of the Investigations Department. He wants to ask you some questions."

Archer interrupted curtly. "Major Elric, where is the boy from Yock Island?"

"Huh? What do y—"

"What _about_ the boy?" Izumi stepped forward, threatening.

Archer's eyebrows shot up, a glare forming. "Not that it's any of your concern, c_itizen, _but we're here to retrieve him. That boy is a missing relative of a high-ranking official."

"Well, that much I believe," Ed muttered to Al.

"Bullcrap!" Izumi snapped at the officer. "Tell me, what exactly is the military going to do with a homunculus? Dissect him for research?"

"Master Izumi!" Al gasped.

Archer folded his arms over his chest, his glare turning colder. "Well then. I see that we're disposing with the pretenses." His lips settled into a thin smile that was anything but friendly. "We're on classified military business, citizen, and what we are doing is not your place to know. You will, therefore, keep your mouth shut and hand that _homunculus_ over to me immediately." He drew the syllables out slowly and with relish.

Ed quickly stepped in front of Izumi before she could lash out. "We don't have the boy. He ran away last night. We're looking for him."

"Don't tell this piece of military trash anyth—"

"Master Izumi, please!" Al repeated. If she didn't stop, things could get ugly fast. And since the officer outranked Ed, there might be nothing they could do.

"It's the truth!" Ed insisted to Archer, his voice rising as he spread his arms out. "Look at us! _We don't. Have. The boy."_

Archer squinted at Ed, his cold smile fixed in place, judging. Finally he nodded. "I believe you." He drew himself up further. "So here are your orders, Major Elric," he went on. "You will continue your search for the homunculus. You will not stop until he's found. And once you have him, you will report to the Southern Command Center and turn him over to our custody."

Ed swallowed. "All right," he said finally. "Sure. We'll find him and turn him over to you."

"Like goddamn hell we—!"

"_MASTER IZUMI."_ Ed's eyes shot fire at his former teacher. "We can _talk about this later." _He was giving her a very meaningful look. It took a moment amid her rage, but a glimmer of understanding finally showed in her eyes.

"Fine," she said, allowing the aggression to slide from her shoulders. "If you say so, Ed." She turned her back on the soldiers and began to walk away.

"Nicely done, Major," Archer smirked at Ed. "Some civilians just need reminding of the military's authority."

"Whatever. See you 'round." Ed turned his own back on the officer and followed after Izumi. Without looking back, she called out some anatomically impossible suggestions of what Archer could do with his military authority, in sufficiently graphic detail that the man's cheeks flushed pink.

"Er, um, it was nice to see you again, Major Armstrong!" Al offered feebly before turning and hurrying after the others. Dwindling behind them, Archer had begun to sputter with rage.

The trio waited until they were out of earshot of the soldiers to talk among themselves. "Edward Elric, you had better have been bluffing back there, or so help me god, you will need four automail limbs by the time I finish with you," Izumi growled.

"Of course I was bluffing! Jeez, how did_ I_ get to be the level-headed one?" Ed waved his arms in agitation. "Now let's find that kid and get him as far away from that Archer creep as we can."

o-o-o-o

As the three figures receded from sight, Armstrong stood politely at parade rest, waiting for his commanding officer's rant to wind down. Something about the degenerate state of the citizenry and how Amestris needed a strong dose of martial law; Armstrong was only half listening. His attention had been drawn by a bright blue feather, caught in the light sea breeze, which soared and tumbled its way past them down the narrow street. So consumed was Archer with righteous indignation that he failed to notice. When the man finally paused for breath, Armstrong cleared his throat and pressed in.

"Colonel, I believe it would make sense for us to split up. We could cover twice the ground in our search." He paused for a calculated moment. "If you feel that would be appropriate, of course, sir."

"Hmm. Yes. That _would_ be the best course of action." Archer coughed importantly. "You will continue the search on your own, Major. We'll regroup at the Southern Command Center in two hours."

"Very good, sir!" Armstrong saluted. Another pompous officer who had to think every suggestion was his own idea—he had seen too many such men in his military career. He marched off before the colonel could appoint a direction for him, hurrying toward the end of the street from which the feather had appeared.

o-o-o-o

"Uncle Alex!" Brooke greeted Armstrong with a bearhug and was nearly lifted off her feet as it was returned. Kayla followed with a grin and a more restrained hug.

"It is good to see you both, little ones. Your parents will be relieved to hear that you're well. I know they miss you."

"Yeah," Brooke laughed. "I never thought I'd miss them so much. But…is everything OK? Is the military looking for us or anything?"

Armstrong shook his head. "No, no. They're only after the homunculus. Your secret is still safe."

The girls sighed with relief. "Well, that's a good for us at least," Kayla replied, anxiously smoothing a hand over her hat. "But that poor boy! What if they want to turn him into a lab rat?"

"He doesn't seem evil like the other ones, Uncle Alex," Brooke added. "Is there anything we can do to help him?"

Armstrong frowned. "I will try. But if Colonel Archer finds him, there will be nothing we can do without risking exposure for you two. And that is much too dangerous." The girls grimaced and nodded reluctantly.

"So, Mr. Armstrong…" Kayla added. "You said that Archer guy is acting head of the Investigations Department? That's my Uncle Maes' job. Is everything OK?"

The burly man paused a moment, then took a breath before responding. "Indeed. He's fine now, but he ran into some trouble with a homunculus himself." He sketched the events as they had been (quietly) related to him by Colonel Mustang: Hughes' confrontation with the shape-changing creature by the phone booth, the gunshot, and the giant phantom bird that had somehow healed him and carried him to safety. Both girls' eyes had gone wide by the end of the account, Kayla's especially. Armstrong patted her shoulder reassuringly. "As I said, little one, your uncle is perfectly fine, just taking some time off. And there was no connection to your secret. There is no need to worry."

"S-sure," she replied uncertainly, swallowing.

A boisterous group of pedestrians walked by, momentarily startling them; Armstrong looked over his shoulder and sighed. "I had best go now, before Colonel Archer chances upon us. You girls should lay low for the time being, just in case." They nodded, giving him big hugs. Then he was gone.

Brooke sighed. "OK, we should still catch up with the guys." She scanned the distance. "We can track that kid better than they can. Maybe we can still help him get away." Hearing no response, she turned back to Kayla, who was staring absently in the other direction. "Hey, are you OK? You seem...bothered."

Before she could answer, they heard a shouted "Hey!" from up the street. They turned to find Ed waving at them as he Al, and Izumi headed their way.

Kayla smiled ruefully at Brooke. "Let's talk about it later—right now we need to find that boy!"

o-o-o-o

The boy with no name hadn't meant to run away, exactly. He'd been bored. All the other people in the house had lain down in their beds and refused to move for hours, with all the lights off, and that Izumi lady had told him he had to be quiet until they all got up again. Boring! So he'd hopped out the window and gone exploring. There weren't many people at first, but there were cats and mice and bugs and all kinds of little scurrying things awake in the dark, and he'd had a fun time chasing and catching them. Then the sun came up and the people started moving again, but by that time he had no idea where he was or how to get back to the house he'd come from. So now he simply wandered.

As he walked through an alley, his stomach growled. He thought of the Izumi lady and all the food she'd given him last night. And the hugs, that was really nice. _She_ was nice. He smiled at the memory. But…she could also be kind of scary when she yelled at the other people. And there was something else. Something he didn't understand, didn't know how to describe. Something about her upset him so much that part of him was happy to be away from her, even though he missed the food and the hugs.

None of the other people in the town had looked at him much, but now he noticed a brown-haired lady standing at the end of the alley, watching him. She was dressed up nice in a skirt and jacket, both light purple. "Hello there," she called. "Are you hungry?" She held out a hand, showing something that glittered red in the morning sun. Curious as well as hungry, he skipped over to her. The red things in her hand looked more like stones than food, but she took one of his hands and dropped them into it. "Have some," she encouraged with a smile. "They're delicious."

Confused, the boy put one of the red stones in his mouth. His eyes went wide in surprise—it _was_ delicious! Not like other food, but much, much better. He quickly wolfed down the rest, then turned to smile at the lady…

The rush of memories hit him all at once. The dark, cold place, full of wriggling things and terrified souls—the Gate. He'd been abandoned there, a little thing lost and scared and angry and alone, so alone. After that had come the waiting, the endless waiting. Years of waiting, all alone. No one to comfort him or keep him company…except his anger. Until yesterday when a portal had opened, and he'd walked through it to this world.

It was a different boy now who turned to look up at the woman in the lavender suit. His eyes held bitter knowledge now. "Give me more," he demanded curtly. She chuckled, then reached into her pocket and handed him more red stones. He chewed those more slowly, savoring the rush of energy they gave him.

"I'm glad you like them. We're raised on these stones of life, we homunculi."

He turned to look at her, startled. "That's right," she continued. "I'm just like you. We're not human—we're something better." He swallowed the last bite of stone, his eyes riveted on her. "Starting today, you're no longer alone," she smiled, ruffling his hair. "What do you think of that?"

All those years alone, all those years he'd dared not even hope…but before he himself knew what we was doing, he found his small arms clasping around her in a desperate hug, felt tears sliding down his cheeks. She _knew_ him, knew who and what he was, and she wasn't afraid. She embraced him, stroking his head. "It's all right now," she crooned. "You never have to be alone again."

Voices drifted their way from the distance. "He's this way—I'm sure of it!" He recognized voice of the brown-haired girl from Izumi's house, looked up in alarm. The woman put a finger to her lips.

"I can't let them see me just yet. Say your goodbyes, OK? However you like. When you're done, I'll be waiting." She gave him a motherly wink, then disappeared around a corner.

"There!" the brown-haired girl burst into the alley, followed by the other three teenagers and Izumi herself. The girl pointed smugly. "Told you I could find him."

But Izumi was ignoring her, instead running to crush the boy in a hug. "I was so worried!" she exclaimed. "You're OK? You're not hurt?"

The boy stared up her, a wicked smile slowly stealing over his face. "Oh, I'm just fine…_Mother_," he smirked. Izumi gasped, and he grinned harder. "What's wrong? That's what you want me to call you, isn't it? And I'm your _little boy." _Oh, this was fun. The pain in her eyes—every caustic word was like a knife through her heart.

"What—what happened to you?" she stammered, moving backward from him.

"I remembered who I truly am," he answered with a laugh. But inflicting emotional pain wasn't enough. His hands shot out and grasped her throat, every ounce of his rage pouring into his tightening grip. He heard the other humans cry out as she began to choke; irrelevant. It would only take a moment to kill her—but something struck him hard in the forehead and he staggered backwards, dropping the woman.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" screamed the blond teenager. The homunculus rubbed his forehead where the rock had hit him, his hand coming away bloody. There was a sizzle of red energy and the wound healed itself. Grinning, he turned to face his attacker, then found himself abruptly tackled to the ground by _both_ human boys, including the heavy one in the armor. Behind them, the girls were rushing the shell-shocked Izumi out of the way.

This was suddenly less fun. With a jerk of his body, the homunculus managed to throw off both brothers—he was much stronger than both of them—then leapt to his feet and scaled the nearest building, sprinting away across the rooftop. He leapt nimbly to the next building, then the next, the humans' shouts and curses fading behind him as he sped away.

He was nearly a mile away before he slowed, slid down from the rooftop and stopped, catching his breath. He was in an alley near the shore, its surface paved with crushed seashells; too far away for the humans to have followed, or at least he hoped. But he wasn't surprised at all when the woman in the lavender suit, not the faintest bit ruffled, appeared from around a corner.

"Are you ready now?" she asked lightly. "It's time to meet the rest of our family."

"I'm ready." He straightened. "What do I call you?"

"I'm Sloth," she replied. "And your name is Wrath." The boy brightened. It had never occurred to him that he might have a name too.

"Now I need you to take a deep breath," she smiled as she stepped toward him, "and trust me." He did as he was told. Sloth's form began to flex and undulate oddly, as if her whole body were turning to liquid. In a moment she surrounded him completely.

o-o-o-o

Brooke skidded to a halt in the alley, nearly slipping on the crushed shells. She turned back and forth in frustration. "He was _just_ here! But now he's gone—damn it!" She inhaled deeply. "There was another homunculus here too. I think—it was the Führer's secretary. But now I can't find them."

"You're sure?" demanded Ed. "Come on Al, let's get a better look." He clapped his hands, placed them on the ground and drew up a glowing column of earth under their feet, raising them up like a tower. At ground level, Izumi sagged against the wall of the nearest building, discouraged.

Kayla, her attention caught by something else, strode out of the alley into the street. Brooke quickly followed. They stood at the top of a sloping hill that led down to the water. "There!" Kayla cried, gesturing up to the brothers. "Can you see—that homunculus lady, she's out on the water, way out there—" She pointed out over the sea toward the horizon.

"The rest of us can't see that far. What do you see?" Brooke demanded.

"She's sort of, um, riding on the water. Like she's surfing or something. But I can only see the top half of her body. And it looks like the boy is…inside her chest, somehow." She shaded her eyes against the sun's glare. "They're getting really far away." Even if they'd had a boat, at this distance they had no hope of pursuing the pair. After half a minute Kayla turned back to the others. "I can't see them anymore. Where could they be going?"

"Heissgart River," Izumi replied quietly. Her voice was drained of energy, her shoulders slumped. "It'll take them to Central City. He's going back to the rest of his kind." Energy glimmered behind her as Ed lowered himself and Al back to the ground, and she turned toward them. "Ed, Al, you were right. That boy is dangerous." Her hands tightened in the air. "I should just have let him die."

There was an uncomfortable silence. _I guess she really bonded with that boy,_ Kayla observed silently. _Before he turned evil, I mean. She must have wanted to adopt him. _

_Yeah_, Brooke agreed somberly. _I guess she still really wanted to be a mother._

Al cleared his throat, an artificial metallic sound. "Master Izumi, we should take you home." She nodded woodenly, turning and walking back up the alley without another word. Behind her, Ed and Al exchanged worried looks.

The teenagers followed Izumi, hanging back a few steps to give her some space. They walked in awkward silence for several minutes, but as they drew within sight of the butcher shop, they resumed talking quietly among themselves.

"I've been thinking about the homunculus names," Kayla murmured thoughtfully. "The ones from Laboratory 5 were all named after sins. Lust, Envy, Gluttony…like the seven deadly sins from ancient philosophy." The brothers looked at her blankly. "You know, the _Summa Theologiae_ from Aerugo, or the Ishvalans' _Arishadvarga…_ " She appealed to Brooke, who was nodding as if this were obvious to anyone. The boys still looked confused. "Homeschool," Kayla shrugged. "Anyway, the point is that there are seven sins, so that must mean there are seven homunculi."

"That makes sense," Al agreed.

"So that means we've met almost all of them," Brooke pointed out. "Besides those three from the laboratory, there's the Führer President, his secretary, and now the kid."

"Al and I still haven't seen the secretary," Ed countered. "But OK, that's six—so who's the seventh?"

Brooke shook her head. "No idea. But the way things are going…"

"They'll probably turn up soon," Al finished grimly.

"Great. Another homunculus—just what we need." Ed rolled his eyes. "But next time, we'll be ready for them. Right, Al?" He shot a sly grin at his brother as he slammed a fist into his opposite hand.

They were almost to the door of the Curtis household, but Izumi halted and turned to glare at them, suddenly livid. "You idiots! Do you think this is a game?" she cried, fists clenched. "These aren't playthings—these are living beings!" The fire had returned to her eyes, but there was something ragged in her voice.

There was another long silence. "No one said it was a game, Master Izumi," Ed replied soberly. His forehead creased with concern as he regarded her. "Hey look, I'm sorry it didn't work out with that boy. It seemed like you were really bonding with him. I know this must be hard—"

"_You don't know anything!" _she shouted at him, irrational with fury.

"Then tell me, damn it!" he shouted back. "You've been acting crazy ever since that kid showed up! What the hell is going on with you?" His voice dropped lower, his manner calming. "Tell us what's really going on. The truth—please, Izumi."

The fight drained out of her all at once, her fists unclenching as she stared down at the ground. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Do any of you know how a homunculus is made? What they really are?" she asked sadly. There was silence.

"A homunculus is made when someone performs human transmutation," she continued, the strength ebbing from her voice. "When we try to raise our loved ones from the dead, the thing we create…turns into this.

"The homunculus we found—that little boy—is my son. Or the closest thing to him that will ever exist." She took another deep breath, a mournful ragged sound. "When I made him all those years ago, when I saw what he was, I gave him back to the Gate of Truth. And now he's found his way back."

Izumi looked up at the shocked brothers, misery and pain etched into her features. She began to cough, a raspy wet rattle that ended with a spray of blood on the ground. As she sank to her knees, Ed and Al ran to help her as Brooke and Kayla watched helplessly.

"Sig!" Al called. "Mason! Please, somebody help!"

The door to the apartment burst open and Sig ran out, Mason close at his heels. Without a word, Sig scooped up his wife and ran back inside.

"It's OK. She'll be all right," Mason reassured the shaken teenagers. "She just needs to take some medicine and get some rest." His voice and smile were calm, though there remained a touch of anxiety in his eyes. "Why don't you kids take a walk for awhile, and give us time to deal with this. OK?" Reluctantly, they nodded.

With nowhere to go, the four began to walk slowly and aimlessly down the street, back toward the seaside. Brooke and Kayla exchanged worried glances at the brothers, who walked in silence. The air hung heavy with dread.

Finally Al spoke up, softly. "Brother…when we tried to bring Mom back, did we…"

"No!" Ed cut him off angrily. "Don't even think that, Al. There's no way that could have happened!"

"But Master Izumi said—"

"I don't care, Al! Just stop it!" His voice cracked with desperation, and there was a wild look in his eyes. In another moment he turned and ran off on his own, leaving a startled Al, Brooke and Kayla behind.


	13. Strength

Chapter 13: Strength

_Seven Years Ago  
>Central City Residential District<em>

"Good morning!" Kayla greeted Brooke with the most convincing smile the eight-year-old girl could muster as she walked into her friend's bedroom. She hoped she'd managed to wipe all the dirt off her face. "Ready to study?"

"Ugh, if we have to," Brooke laughed, hopping off her bed. "But I'd rather be—" She trailed off, staring at Kayla. "Hey, are you OK? Were you crying?"

"N-no, I'm fine!" Kayla struggled to sound cheerful. She slipped to her knees, shrugged off her backpack and began taking out books, letting her auburn hair fall to the sides of her face to obscure Brooke's view. "We should get to work. We've got a test next week and all."

Brooke slid down to the floor next to her, cocking her head to peer intently. "You're _not_ fine. You're upset and your face is all dirty. What happened?"

Kayla's arms fell limply to her sides, her eyes fixed on the floor. "It was the Staviash brothers. You know, those two mean boys who live on Broad Street. They were out on their lawn when I walked by, and they started calling me a freak and a weirdo. They do that sometimes. I always just ignore them and keep walking. But this time—" she swallowed, trying not to cry again— "they followed me to the next house and shoved me into the fence. Then they ran away laughing." She rubbed at her watering eyes. "I didn't know what to do, so I just kept going."

Brooke's face contorted in anger. "Those bullies! That's not right!" She slammed a small fist into her opposite palm. "You probably could have taken them, Kayla. I know they're older, but we're stronger than they are. Together we can, for sure—"

"No! Brooke, we can't attract attention like that!" She wound a lock of her hair around a finger nervously. "If I they do it again, I'll just ignore them. They'll get bored eventually. Or—or I can change the way I walk to your house. From now on I'll walk up another street."

Brooke was shaking her head firmly. "That's no good. If you don't fight back, it'll just get worse. They'll probably come looking for you. Kayla, what if next time they take your _hat?!"_

Kayla paled with fear. Brooke was right—it sounded exactly like something those boys would do. But fighting back would be a big risk too…and could they really beat them?

Brooke had made up her mind. "This ends tomorrow. We'll go together." Her arms were folded across her chest in defiance of any arguments.

After an agonizing moment, Kayla's eyes met her friend's, and she nodded.

o-o-o-o

The next morning the girls walked together up the sidewalk on Broad Street. Kayla's footsteps were heavy and slow, but Brooke was full of nervous energy, almost eager as they approached the boys' house.

The brothers were lounging on their porch. "Hey, look!" The older boy was a tall, lanky eighth-grader with light brown hair and a jeering voice. "We got _two_ freaks today, bro." He elbowed the boy next to him, a smaller brunet sixth-grader.

"Cool! Double target practice," the younger brother grinned maliciously. The boys stood and ambled toward the girls. "Let's take their stupid hats," the younger one added.

Kayla froze, her worst nightmare coming true. But Brooke had had enough. She stood tall, fists balled at her sides. "You just try it, jerks. We'll hurt you!"

The older brother guffawed. "Sounds like this weirdo needs to be taught a lesson." He lunged toward Brooke, his arms poised to give her a vicious shove, but before he could reach her she pulled back her fist and planted it hard in his face.

With a yelp of pain he staggered backwards, blood streaming from his nose. "OWW! _What the hell?"_ He stared at her in genuine shock, a hint of fear beginning to creep into his eyes. Brooke threw back her head and laughed.

Emboldened now, Kayla turned to the younger brother, who had been moving toward her but was now stopped in his tracks. With a growl, she ran at the boy and punched him as hard as she could in the stomach. He cried out and doubled over.

"_What are you?!" _the older boy demanded, pointing a trembling finger at them.

Brooke smiled innocently. "Huh? We're just ordinary girls. Guess you're not as strong as you thought." She broke into a wicked grin. "It'll be really funny when everyone hears how we beat you up."

"You tell _anyone_ and we'll make you regret it!" the younger boy yelled, doing his best to stand up straight.

"That's right," the older boy scowled. "We let you win anyway. We only went soft on you 'cause you're girls." He grabbed his brother's arm and began to pull him back toward their home. "Come on. We're done playing with these freaks."

Once the boys had disappeared into the house, Brooke turned to Kayla and grinned. "Did you see that? We beat their butts! And now they won't tell anyone, so we're safe!" She was bouncing with excitement. "We are so _awesome!"_

"Yeah," Kayla mumbled, still trying to process the fact that they had hurt people,even if they were jerks. She felt drained and a little sick to her stomach. "Hey Brooke," she mumbled, "let's just go home."

* * *

><p><em>Present Day<br>Dublith, Seaside District_

As the sun dipped low, Brooke found Ed at the water's edge. He was picking up pebbles from the sand and throwing them out over the water, angling his throws so the stones skipped and skimmed over the surface as they landed. No one else was within sight. She coughed quietly as she approached, not wanting to startle him; but he kept his eyes focused toward the sea, even as she walked up and came to a stop next to him.

"I guess it makes sense you were the one to find me," he said after a moment, his lips twitching in a faint smile. He squinted at the horizon, lined up his next throw. "I'm surprised it took you so long." The pebble sailed from his automail hand, impossibly far, skipping more than a dozen times before it sank.

"Eh, I walked around the waterfront a few times first. I thought you might need some space." Brooke bent down and picked up a pebble of her own, throwing it and watching it skip along the water. Hers didn't go nearly as far as Ed's. "Are you OK? Al is worried."

"I'm OK." Another stone left his hand. "I just…don't want to talk about what Izumi said. Not right now. All right?"

"All right." Brooke selected another pebble. "We made Al promise not to bring it up again until you did. I'm not even sure he wants to." Ed nodded silently in response, eyes on the horizon.

She let her next stone fly, eying its short path with annoyance. "You know, you've really got an unfair advantage with that automail arm."

Ed smiled, his eyes finally meeting hers. Some of the pent-up tension was beginning to relax from his shoulders. "I don't know, you throw farther than any girl I've ever met."

Brooke returned his smile. "Heh. I could out-skip all the boys in my neighborhood, growing up." She flexed a bicep toward him playfully. "It's really annoying that I can't do it to you."

"You'll have to blame Winry for that," he laughed. He paused and studied Brooke thoughtfully. "Hey…have you ever tried using your chimera energy for stuff like this?"

"What—on purpose?" She felt her cheeks flush. "Of course not! I mean, things catch on fire sometimes. It's not something to mess with." She squared her shoulders stubbornly against the thought, her own eyes turning toward the sea. But at the back of her mind, a small temptation crept in: _Could I?_

Ed nodded soberly as he lined up another throw. "I understand. I always wanted to push the limits of what I could do with alchemy, but I know what happens when you push too far—believe me." He shuddered as he let the stone fly, and this time it faltered, splashing clumsily a few feet from them.

He stared impassively at the ripples it had left. But a moment later he was readying another stone. "The thing is, if I'd never tried to find my limits at all, I'd always wonder what I'd missed." This time the stone flew true, arcing far over the water.

_Water,_ Brooke thought idly, staring at the ripples as they radiated and converged into small waves that broke on the sand at their feet. _Water doesn't catch on fire._

She turned and her eyes met Ed's, still watching her thoughtfully. Slowly, a smile spread over her lips. "OK...I'll try it. But if this goes haywire, I'm going to kick your butt afterward," she warned.

"Fair enough," he chuckled.

Brooke stretched out her hand, recalling the energy she'd felt coursing through her so many times—during the experiments as a child, in her nightmares for years afterward, on the night that her ears and tail had grown, and again at Laboratory 5. But this time, _she_ would be in control. Staring at her hand, she willed the energy to come forth, willed until it took the form of a faint purple glow, spreading from the palm of her hand to the tips of her fingers, and up her arm to her shoulder…

"Ed!" she whispered, a quiver in her voice. "I'm really doing this!"

Grinning, he stared in fascination at the purple glow and nodded. "Now try throwing a stone," he urged softly.

Slowly, carefully, she bent down and chose a stone, half expecting the sand at her feet to burst into flame—but no, it was still wet from the surf. And she knew suddenly that even if it weren't, even if she were standing on dry paper and kindling, it wouldn't catch fire. Not unless she wanted it to. She straightened, focusing the glow of energy into the muscles of her arm. She pulled her arm back, lined up the throw, let it sail—

The stone shot far across the water, skipping over and over, far exceeding Ed's best throw, so far that it was still skipping as they lost sight of it in the distance. Ed let out a low whistle as Brooke grinned in astonishment. "You did it!" he exclaimed. "That was so cool!"

All at once the purple light faded out, taking her strength with it. Her knees buckled and she began to fall, but he quickly caught her under the shoulders and eased her down to the sand. Blushing slightly, she leaned against him for support, catching her breath.

"OK…that took a lot out of me," she laughed. "Do you mind if I just sit here for a minute?"

"Of course not!" he chuckled. "It's the same way with alchemy. The first time I transmuted something, it felt like I'd run a marathon. Don't worry, it gets easier in a hurry."

"Good." She fanned herself, overheated as well as tired—it really did feel like she's been running. Craning her neck to look past Ed, she saw no one else anywhere around them. "I'm gonna take my hat off for a minute. I'm burning up," she said as she slid off her beret. "Not literally!" she added quickly.

"I think I'd have noticed that," he smiled. She was suddenly aware of close he was to her, found her breath unexpectedly catching again, but this time not from exertion. Her strength was returning; she could stand up on her any time now, but she stayed where she was, her back propped against his chest. _What am I doing?_ she asked herself. She had no good answer, but neither did she have any desire to move from that spot.

"Hey, um..." he began. She could feel him looking at her wolf's ears. "This is the longest I've seen you without your hat. Your ears are pretty cool." He swallowed awkwardly. "Would you mind if I…touched them?"

"Go ahead," she smiled. Tentatively he reached out and gently drew his hand along one of them.

"They're soft," he murmured. He could have stopped then, just as she could have stood up. But he continued to gently stroke her ear, almost absently, and she continued to lean against him, as they sat and looked contentedly out over the water at the sunset. It was as if they were both caught in a dreamlike trance, neither willing to break the spell.

Quietly, nearly beyond the range of hearing, Brooke gradually became aware of a low humming sound—no, really more a of purr. In another moment she realized it was coming from her. Ed realized at the same time, their eyes meeting in amusement. She felt herself blush again. "Um, that's new," she said.

"I guess lots of things are new today," he laughed. "For both of us." Far out to sea the setting sun lit up the sky in pink and gold, as if the whole world had suddenly turned magical.

o-o-o-o

Kayla sighed as she inspected the lines on the sketch pad on her lap. She sat on the floor of the Izumi's guest room, back pressed against the bed, one hand absently twirling a pencil. A woman's face stared back from her lap, its blank expression outlined in rough strokes. She closed her eyes for a few moments, trying to envision the real woman's face in as much detail as she could, before returning her attention to the paper and adding a few more strokes around the eyes.

"I'm back!" Brooke burst through the door, startling Kayla. She walked over and flopped down on the bed, hanging over the edge to peer over Kayla's shoulder. For all the drama they'd seen today, she seemed oddly happy. "I brought Ed back. He and Al are patching things up. What are you doing?"

"Eh. I was trying to draw something for Al." Kayla bit her lip shyly and held up the sketch pad. "Can you tell who it is?"

Brooke squinted at the image. "Wait…is that the Führer President's secretary? The homunculus?"

Kayla nodded. "I already showed it to him, and he recognized her face right away. He says…she looks exactly like their mom." Frowning at the picture, she added a few more strokes to the woman's hair.

"Oh." Brooke slipped off the bed to sit beside her friend, drawing up her knees. "Wow. That's rough."

"Yeah." They sat in silence for a few moments. The girls had never known their parents, but what the brothers must be going through was so much worse. Did the homunculus remember "her" sons? What would happen if they met? Would she consider them enemies?

"So…" Brooke seemed keen on changing the subject, her good mood undeterred. "A lot happened while I was gone. I need to show you something."

Kayla watched expectantly as she raised herself from the floor, stood still closed her eyes. In a moment her skin began to glow with faint purple light.

"Brooke! What are you doing?" Kayla gasped, jumping to her feet. "You might burn something!"

"I won't," Brooke promised, peeking mischievously from one eye. The purple glow grew brighter and began to surround her, soaring nearly to the ceiling, while at the same time it on took on the shape of her wolf's ears and tail. It stayed that way for just a few moments before it began to falter, the energy dimming and shrinking until it flickered out. Exhausted but laughing, drops of sweat beading her forehead, Brooke collapsed against Kayla.

"That was amazing!" Kayla exclaimed. "You learned how to do that today?"

Brooke nodded, her eyes shining. "Ed helped me. He encouraged me to try it, and, um, yeah." Her cheeks flushed slightly. Kayla raised an eyebrow, but Brooke only smiled and ducked the question. "But I'll bet you can do it too, Kayla! You already heal people much better than me."

"Yeah." Kayla's voice went quiet. "Um, about that. I think…I learned something new today, too." Amidst everything going on with the homunculus boy, and Izumi's collapse and the Elrics fighting, she'd barely had time to process her own realization. Now she sat down on the bed and took a deep breath as Brooke flopped down next to her.

"Do you remember that night I was sleepwalking and ended up on the floor? And I had that strange dream about Uncle Maes?"

"Sure. What about it?"

"Well, I remembered more of the dream the next day." Kayla's voice had grown small. "He was in front of a phone booth. And he'd been shot. And then…we were flying."

"Wait a minute," Brooke interjected. "When we talked to Uncle Alex, he told us that same story. That _actually_ happened."

Kayla swallowed. "I think…I was doing more than sleepwalking that night."

Now Brooke's eyes had grown wide too. "You mean…_you_ were the one who saved your uncle?" she breathed. "A giant bird who healed him and flew him to safety! What else could it have been?"

Kayla nodded. "I realized it as soon as he told us. That means our bodies can do things we don't even know about yet. We can _fly,_ Brooke!" She grinned. Brooke was grinning too, and they shared an excited hug.

But Kayla's smile soon faltered. Her hands fidgeted nervously, playing with the edge of her flowered skirt. "Um, I guess it also means I _killed_ that homunculus." She shuddered for just a moment. "But…I'm not sorry. He was a monster, and he was going to kill Uncle Maes."

Brooke nodded soberly. "It's OK, Kayla. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I know." Her hands were steady now. "You always wanted us both to be strong. To be able to fight. And I never wanted to, because I hate it. I don't ever want to have to hurt anyone." She turned wide eyes toward her friend. "But I can, if I have to. And I'm happy that now I'm strong enough to protect the people I love."

Brooke nodded in understanding, then gave her friend an impulsive hug. "I can't believe it," she laughed, "we really are awesome!" Laughing herself, Kayla could not help but agree.

o-o-o-o

The next morning the girls found Mason bustling around the kitchen in place of Izumi. "She's doing better, but still resting," he explained. "Sig's managing the shop, so she sent the boys on an errand, and I'm cooking today." He wore his usual cheerful smile, but behind him on the stove, disaster reigned: a trio of pans held rubbery-looking bacon, runny eggs, and burnt pancakes, and the air was filled with weird smells. "Have a seat! Breakfast is almost ready," he exhorted, grabbing some plates from the counter and brandishing a spatula.

"Gee, you know, we've got this thing to do," Brooke smiled, pushing Kayla with her toward the back door. "We really need to get going."

"Right! We don't want to be late for that thing!" Kayla agreed as the girls nearly fled through the doorway.

"Well OK, but come back in time for lunch!" a confused Mason called out after them.

They made it to the top of the nearest hill before they burst out laughing. "That was close! We'd have been poisoned for sure," Brooke giggled.

"And spent the rest of day being made to wash dishes," Kayla shuddered. She looked around them, the streets of the waterfront district just beginning to come alive in the morning sun. "So now what? Where are we really going?"

"Don't know. We might as well try to find Ed and Al." Brooke closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then turned away from the waterfront, toward the quieter streets that led to the edge of town. "I think they headed that way." She pointed toward some woods that were visible in the distance.

"They're supposed to be running an errand. Why would they be going to the woods?" Kayla asked, puzzled.

Brooke shrugged. "Who knows? Let's catch up to them and find out."

o-o-o-o

But an hour later, after walking in what they were reasonably certain were circles amidst the trees, Brooke had lost the scent.

"I give up," sighed Kayla as she sank down on the ground under a tree. "How did this happen? We're both part wild animal. How did we manage to get lost in the woods?"

"At least you have an excuse," Brooke chuckled as she flopped down beside her, stretching herself out lazily on the leafy soil. "Birds can just fly up and look around to figure out where they are. But wolves are supposed to be able to figure it out on the ground." Her stomach growled. "I blame missing breakfast."

"Maybe we should climb up one of these trees and take a look," Kayla suggested drowsily, leaning back against the tree trunk behind her and closing her eyes. "In a few minutes." The forest was cool and shady, but they were both tired and overheated from walking, and it felt good to take a rest. A cool breeze shifted their way and felt even better.

Suddenly Brooke perked up. "I smell something," she said. "Food…someone's cooking." She stood up, turning herself in a half-circle to hone in on the scent. Kayla's eyes snapped open. "There!" Brooke pointed. "Someone's making cake!"

"What are we waiting for?" laughed Kayla as she jumped up, her own stomach growling. She grabbed Brooke by the wrist and began to playfully drag her in the direction she had been pointing. "Let's hope they're willing to share!"

o-o-o-o

Twenty minutes later, the girls found themselves staring up at the last thing they expected to see in the middle of the forest: a huge, almost castle-like mansion with curved towers, balconies, and expansive windows soaring three stories high. The house was old but well-kept, surrounded by neatly manicured gardens full of what looked like medicinal herbs.

"Wow…" breathed Brooke.

"In the middle of nowhere! This can't be good," frowned Kayla, thoughts of cake fleeing from her mind despite her growling stomach. "This is like one of those fairy tales where the witch lures kids into her castle to eat them."

"Witches don't live in castles, silly," Brooke chuckled as she grabbed the huge brass doorknocker and banged it against the massive wooden door. "Maybe it's the one with the handsome prince who was turned into a beast! Didn't he have a castle hidden in the woods?"

"I think so. Well, at least we'll have something in common," Kayla sighed, a grudging smile playing at her lips. In a few moments they heard the sound of footsteps approaching from within the house, and the door swung open.

It was a pretty girl only a few years older than them, with chin-length brown hair and brown eyes, wearing a pink maid's uniform. She began to bow respectfully to them, but stopped halfway in surprise. "Oh! You're not who I thought you'd be. I mean, err…" She put a hand behind her head sheepishly. "Sorry, I haven't been at this maid business for very long. Um, welcome to Dante's house. I'm Lyra, her apprentice. May I help you?"

"So sorry to bother you! We're lost," began Brooke. "Do you think this Dante person would mind if we rested here until we can figure out where we are and how to get home?"

"Of course not, she loves visitors!" the maid gushed. "And you're just in time for tea. Follow me."

They followed as she led them up a long staircase. "Let's just hope we aren't the main course," Kayla muttered quietly to Brooke, who elbowed her in the ribs with a smirk.

At the top they entered what appeared to be a study. "Mistress Dante, there are guests here to see you," Lyra called at the door, then bowed respectfully and left the girls alone with the room's occupant.

Dante turned out to be a pleasant elderly woman dressed in an old-fashioned long black skirt and green Xingese-style jacket, with a pink shawl wrapped around her shoulders and gray hair swept up in a bun. She looked up from the book she was reading—an alchemy textbook—and gave the girls a kindly but puzzled smile. "Why, you weren't the ones I was expecting," she said. "Did Izumi send you? I was told that the Elric brothers were coming to pick up some medicine for her."

Both girls breathed a sigh of relief. "Ed and Al are friends of ours," Kayla volunteered. "We were staying with Ms. Izumi, but we went for a walk and got lost. If they're coming here, we can go home with them." _Now we know where they were going,_ she added silently to Brooke.

"I see," nodded Dante. "Well as long as you're waiting, you might as well have some tea." She gestured to them to have a seat on the couch, where a nearby table held a steaming teapot, teacups and a tray of beautifully-decorated cupcakes. The starving girls' eyes lit up at the sight.

They were well into the process of stuffing themselves with cupcakes, while listening to Dante talk about her life as a medicinal alchemist when the maid escorted the Elrics in. "Wait, what are you two doing here?!" Edward blurted out, while Al smiled and rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment.

"These poor lost girls are waiting for a pair of gentlemen to escort them home," Dante chided with a mischievous gleam in her eye. "But before that, I heard that Izumi needs some medicine. Why don't you boys come help me get it ready while they finish their tea?" She ushered Ed and Al out of the room.

It seemed the girls would have some time to kill. While Kayla sipped from her teacup, Brooke held up a cupcake and thoughtfully examined its pink frosting. "I'm already stuffed, but…maybe just _one _more," she pronounced. She was just about to take a bite when the sound of a girl's scream rang out.

"What the…?!" Kayla muttered, hastily setting down her teacup and rushing to the nearest window.

"No, it came from this way," insisted Brooke as she ran to the door of the study, peering out into the hall and down the staircase. "I think it was Lyra. It sounds like someone's fighting on the first floor—"

"Brooke! Ed's getting beaten up by some guy on the lawn!" Kayla called urgently from the window. Brooke ran over to look, just in time to see Ed being punched in the face by a dark-haired man wearing black leather clothes and dark sunglasses. The girls' eyes met.

"I'll go help Ed. You find out what's going on downstairs—and try to find Al!" Brooke ordered. Kayla nodded, and the two quickly ran for the staircase.

o-o-o-o

Following the sounds of fighting, Kayla arrived at the door to the kitchen, then quickly backed out into the hall before anyone saw her. Peering from around the doorframe, she saw that Al and Dante were being attacked by four assailants. A large bald man stood behind Dante, one arm restraining her shoulders while the other hand held a knife to her throat. A second, even larger man with white hair and mutton-chop sideburns was in the process of swinging a huge mallet toward Al, who ducked out of the way just before it connected with his head. A slender woman with short blonde hair and a tattoo on one shoulder stood nearby, tensed and ready to attack. Another man was already knocked out at Al's feet.

Kayla hesitated. Strong as she was, it wouldn't be enough against this many trained attackers. She didn't know how to activate her chimera powers, and they didn't seem to be working on their own this time. _If I run in there now, they'll just take me hostage, _she thought grimly. For the moment she continued to watch, waiting for an opportunity to help.

Suddenly still another man appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a slender man with short brown hair who leapt out from under the kitchen table and attacked Al with a sword, moving so quickly that it was difficult to follow his movements. The sword swung repeatedly, but Al managed to duck all the blows until he found himself backed against the wall.

With another strike of the sword, Al's helmet was knocked to the floor. Suddenly the woman leapt into action, jumping so high that she managed to land with her feet astride Al's shoulders. "Forgive the intrusion," she murmured with a sly smile, then dove headfirst into his armor, her legs twisting like a snake's body as she disappeared inside. From the door, Kayla stifled a gasp.

In another moment the woman had managed to nearly immobilize Al's body from within. The man with the mutton chops did the rest, subduing Al with a martial arts hold and pinning him to the ground. "Alphonse Elric, you're coming with us," the man sneered at him, slapping his helmet back on. With that, the thugs made ready to leave the kitchen as abruptly as they'd come, with the bald man helping to restrain Al and the brown-haired man slinging their unconscious associate over his shoulder.

Kayla ducked out of sight just in time as they headed toward the door, retreating around a hallway corner where she nearly tripped over an unconscious Lyra. "Hey…psst…wake up!" whispered Kayla frantically, shaking the maid awake. As the girl's eyes snapped open, Kayla held a finger to her lips. Understanding, she remained silent.

"Those guys are kidnapping Al!" Kayla whispered. "I couldn't do anything to stop them, but I'm going to try to follow them. Tell Brooke and Ed what happened, all right?" Lyra's eyes widened. "I'll be OK," Kayla added to reassure her. "I won't do anything dumb." With no time for argument, she hurried after the kidnappers.

Outside, the men were loading Al into the back of a delivery truck. Kayla hid behind some bushes until everyone had gotten inside and closed up the vehicle. As it began to pull away, she quickly darted out from hiding and jumped onto the back bumper of the truck, holding onto the door handles to keep herself in place.

The vehicle rumbled down the driveway and onto the road, picking up speed. Kayla gripped the door handles for dear life, hoping fervently that they wouldn't drive over any bumps big enough to knock her off, and that none of the thugs would look out the truck's back window and spot her. _OK,_ she admitted to herself, _I was totally lying when I said I wouldn't do anything dumb._

o-o-o-o

By the time Brooke made it down the stairs and outside, a bruised and slightly bloodied Ed was sprawled out on the ground, barely conscious and unable to move. Several feet away, the leather-clad man was grinning and rubbing his fist with his other hand. He didn't appear to have a scratch on him. Heedless of her own safety, Brooke ran out to the lawn and stepped between them, facing the man with her arms outstretched in front of Ed. "Leave him alone!" she yelled. "You won the fight. Now get out of here!"

Surprised, the man lowered his sunglasses to get a better look at her. "Well, aren't you a feisty little thing," he chuckled, grinning anew.

"Take another step and you'll find out just how feisty!" Brooke threatened. She was bluffing: if Ed—who was trained in hand-to-hand fighting _and _an alchemist—had been whipped this casually then she probably didn't stand a chance either, chimera strength or not. But she kept her chin up, glaring at him.

He wasn't buying it. "I doubt it, sweetheart. So let's not fight, 'cause I don't like to hurt girls." He cocked his head to one side, squinting in her direction. "Or chimeras."

"W-what?" Flustered, her hands unconsciously flew to her cap, but it was still in place, concealing her ears. And there was no way her tail could be showing through her baggy jeans. "I'm not—"

"Relax doll, most of my friends are chimeras. I got, like, a sixth sense about 'em." He tapped his forehead. "You oughta stop by the bar someday. Come say hello to the gang." He reached into a pocket, pulled out a small object and tossed it to her. It was a box of matches labeled _Devil's Nest,_ decorated with a picture of a cartoon devil. "My name's Greed, by the way."

"I'm not old enough to go to a bar!" Brooke protested angrily. "And you're a thug!"

The man sighed and pushed up his sunglasses. "Fine, whatever. I'm done here anyhow." He waved dismissively at Ed's limp form. "Tell your boyfriend not to come after me, or he'll get it twice as bad next time." He turned and began to quickly walk away.

"He's not my—!" Brooke started to yell after him, blushing, but Greed had already disappeared into the woods. (Or was he?) Sighing in embarrassment, she turned back to Ed, dropping down to kneel beside him and shaking his shoulders. "Ed, are you all right? Wake up!"

His eyes were barely open and his only reply was a groggy moan. But in a few moments he snapped fully awake and managed to sit up. "Who the hell was that guy?! Is everybody else OK?"

Before Brooke could answer, she heard their names being called. Lyra was running across the lawn toward them as fast as she could in her maid's dress, with Dante following more slowly behind. Lyra stopped beside them, panting. "Al's been kidnapped!" she told them frantically. "And Kayla followed them!"

Ed and Brooke both gasped. "What the _hell—?_" demanded Ed angrily, jumping to his feet, swaying with momentary dizziness. Brooke could see fear flash in his eyes. He grabbed Lyra by the shoulders. "Where did they go? Tell me everything you saw!"

"I didn't see anything!" she admitted sheepishly. "I was helping Mistress Dante—"

"Wait, Ed!" Brooke interrupted. She held up the matchbox Greed had given her. "I think I know where to start looking."

By now Dante had ambled over to them. "I'll call Izumi to help you," she told the two of them cheerfully, seeming remarkably unconcerned about their safety.

o-o-o-o

After a long and harrowing ride through the city, the truck finally slowed, turning into a gravel-covered alley behind a row of dilapidated buildings. This had to be their destination. Kayla let go of the door handles and pushed herself off the bumper, slipping on some gravel as she landed on the ground and coming down hard on one knee. (Ow.) She picked herself up and darted behind a dumpster as the truck came to a stop. In another moment the rear doors opened to disgorge the kidnappers; they carried Al between them, now bound with chains at his wrists and ankles. They headed to the back door of one of the warehouses, and as the door opened to let them in, strains of music wafted out until it slammed shut behind them.

Kayla crept to the door: it was locked, naturally. A crudely scrawled sign above it read _Devil's Nest, _and smaller, faded lettering below it read _Members Only. _Taking another look around the alley, she noticed boxes full of empty beer and liquor bottles propped next to the dumpster.

"Bring him down here," she heard a man's voice say faintly. Looking down, she saw that the building had a series of short windows along the very bottom of the outside wall. Basement windows—and they were open. Peering cautiously into one of them, she saw the men carry Al in and set him down in a sitting position on the basement floor. Everyone left but the brown-haired man, who produced a long thin pipe from his pocket and began to smoke from it. The woman must still have been inside Al's armor too, because Kayla heard him ask her not to touch his bloodseal.

_OK,_ thought Kayla, _I need to figure out where we are and call for help. _She would find the nearest street sign, she decided, then go look for a payphone—but in the meantime Al had turned to the brown-haired man. "Say, mister," he asked, "how did you became chimeras?" Kayla froze. _Chimeras! _

"We all used to be soldiers a long time ago," the man replied, exhaling smoke. "We were all badly injured on the battlefield out east. The military took us to some kind of laboratory and healed us, but then they turned us into experimental subjects."

Kayla's heart was pounding. These people were dangerous thugs, and if they had animal abilities, they might be able to detect her presence at any moment. But these people were chimeras, and they clearly knew things that she and Brooke didn't. Swallowing her fear, she crouched down behind the dumpster and continued to listen.

o-o-o-o

_Kayla. Where are you? Are you safe?_ Brooke thought as loudly as she could as they neared their destination.

_I'm here! In an alley behind a bar called the Devil's Nest,_ came a silent reply. _Al's being held in the basement. There are at least five kidnappers, two in the same room with him. And Brooke—they're all chimeras!_

_Wow! OK, got it._ "Ed, this way!" Brooke pointed and repeated what Kayla had told her.

"All right," Ed replied. "You go find Kayla and stay out of sight, OK? I don't want anything bad to happen to you." Catching himself, his face reddened. "Or to Kayla, of course. And Al wouldn't want that either."

She wasn't sure whether to find his protectiveness touching or annoying. "Forget it. I'm coming with you," she informed him, arms crossed over her chest. "You just got your butt handed to you by _one _of those guys. You need all the help you can get. And if they're really chimeras, I want to talk to them."

He ran his fingers through his hair impatiently. "OK, come on then. We don't have time to argue!" He marched to the front door of the building and kicked it open. Inside it was an ordinary, though empty bar. They ran to the back, looking for a staircase.  
><em><br>That guy who was punching Ed is here,_ came Kayla's voice in her head. _Looks like he's the boss.  
><em>  
><em>He's such a jerk,<em> Brooke replied. _I think he was sort of hitting on me. And he's like thirty! _

_Ewww—Hey wait, Ms. Izumi just got here. Oh wow, she just busted in and started fighting!_

"I found the stairs!" yelled Ed. "This way." Brooke ran over to the doorway where he was standing. Pausing, he clapped his hands, then touched the wall next to him and transmuted a billy club. "Here," he handed it to Brooke. "Don't use this unless you have to. Use the element of surprise. Go for the smallest and weakest enemy first. OK?"

"OK," Brooke agreed nervously. The billy club felt heavy in her hand. Childhood brawls were one thing, but she had never used a weapon, never seriously hurt another person. She was no longer sure this was a good idea.  
><em><br>Where are you guys? Ms. Izumi's not doing so well! _

_We're coming!_ There was no more time for second thoughts. Ed and Brooke were running down the staircase now. In another moment they arrived at the room where Al was being held. He sat on the floor, his wrists and ankles in shackles. A crowd of rough-looking thugs filled the room, along with Greed; grinning, he dangled a barely conscious Izumi by the collar.

"You get your filthy hands off of her!" Ed shouted. "I'm taking back my brother _and _my teacher!" He launched himself at the men, using martial arts kicks and punches to fight several of them at once.

"Get the girl!" Brooke heard one of the men say. Looking up, she saw two of the thugs coming toward her. One was small man with a pointy nose wearing a cloak, and the other was a taller bald man with a scar on his head holding a knife.

She recalled Ed's advice about the element of surprise. "You wouldn't hurt a nice girl like me, would you?" she asked them with a sweet smile, hiding her billy club behind her back.

"Not if you come quietl—" The small man stopped talking when she abruptly clubbed him on the head. He fell to the floor unconscious.

"Why you—" threatened the bald man, brandishing the knife at her. Before she even knew what she was doing, Brooke flashed with purple light, baring ghostly teeth and claws at him, and growled. Startled, the man backed away.

_Nice one!_ Kayla's voice said. Back to normal, Brooke looked up and saw her friend watching through one of the windows, and waved.

Ed was still fighting the other men. "You know, I've got a hostage here," Greed called as he shook Izumi for emphasis. The motion her woke up, and she punched Greed so hard that he flew across the room. Then she dropped to her knees and threw up blood. Brooke gasped, heard Kayla do the same in her head.

Greed stood and brushed himself off. "Everybody stop!" he yelled. "This is going nowhere." Obediently, his men backed away from Ed, save for the one that he was gripping by the collar. "Let's make this a one-on-one fight," Greed continued as he approached Ed, flexing his fingers. Ed let go of the man he'd been about to punch and nodded, moving into a defensive stance with fists raised. "If you're going to fight me, come at me like you're going to kill me," Greed advised with a grin.

Ed nodded again, clapped his hands, and extended his automail hand into a blade. "I'm going to send you flying," he declared. He lunged and his blade connected with Greed's arm, but in the spot where he made impact the man's skin briefly turned as dark and hard as metal, and the blade merely glanced off.

"You won't be able to put a scratch on me. I call it the Ultimate Shield," smirked Greed. They continued to fight furiously, rebounding across the room, but Ed moved so fast that Greed couldn't put a scratch on him either.

At one point Greed slid so close to Brooke that he nearly ran into her. "Oh, excuse me, sweetheart," he told her with a smirk and a wink. Brooke smiled back at him and knocked him on the head with her billy club. "Ow!" he complained while rubbing his head, then had to quickly dart away to avoid one of Ed's kicks.

Behind her, Brooke sensed that Kayla had come into the room with them. She turned and saw her friend helping a weakened Izumi up from the floor. As she slung Izumi's arm over her shoulders, purple light began to glow between the two of them. The older woman suddenly perked up as if she were no longer injured and stood up without help. Kayla swayed a bit herself but remained standing.

Greed and Ed were still fighting—but were interrupted by the sound of gunfire, coming from somewhere nearby. The largest of the thugs, the man with the mutton chops, turned to Greed with alarm. "It's the military! We need to go!" he called frantically. He punched a hole into the wall behind him and motioned for the other men to pick up Al and go through it.

"Wait!" Ed yelled. He moved to stop them, but found himself sucker-punched over the head by the brown-haired man and was momentarily stunned. Just as Greed and his men leaped through the hole—it appeared to lead to a sewer tunnel—a group of soldiers burst through the door and pointed their guns at everyone. Kayla managed to jump through the hole in the wall just before a shower of rubble sealed it behind them.

_Kayla!_ Brooke shouted silently.

_It's OK—I'll stay with Al!_ Kayla called back, her inner voice already becoming fainter as she quickly moved farther away.

"Nobody move!" barked the officer in charge.

"But the criminals are getting away!" Brooke protested, pointing at the hole in the wall.

"And they have my brother and our friend!" Ed yelled frantically.

"That's an order!" the soldier growled, cocking his gun. "No one goes anywhere until we figure out what happened here." With no choice but to comply, they numbly put their hands up. Rescuing Al and Kayla would have to wait.


	14. Mortal Consequences

_Author's Note: There's a bit of human transmutation horror in the opening flashback, and a bit more in a scene in Dante's house near the end. Nothing worse than what you saw in the anime, but just wanted to warn anyone who might find it disturbing._

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 14: Mortal Consequences<span>

_423 Years Ago  
>Village of Giribaz, Usewelle Province<em>

Van Hohenheim lay in bed, as he did most days, shaking from fit after fit of racking coughs. He pulled the thin blanket up tighter under his chin, its warmth inadequate to the chill in his bones. For the thousandth time, he wished his wife were at his side. But he knew she was laboring away on his behalf, working feverishly in their alchemy lab to find a cure for the consumption that was slowly killing him.

He had little hope that an alchemical cure was possible. If it were, he believed she would have found it already. Though they were both highly gifted alchemists, he was not too proud to admit that her talents exceeded his. She would hear none of his doubts. So driven was she, so utterly focused on saving him, that she rarely left the lab anymore. Sometimes she even forgot to bring him a meal or his medicine. Not that it mattered; he could no longer eat more than a few swallows, and the medications did nothing to salve his discomfort.

He shook with another bout of coughs that left flecks of blood on his pillow. He would be 27 years old for just five more days, and he did not know if he would live to see 28. It was time for both of them to admit it. The next time she visited his sickroom, he would ask her to give up her research, so at least they could spent his last days together.

His mind traveled back in time to the source of their misery. Conditions in their village had always been harsh, with hunger and illness ever-present companions for the common people. Only the nobility—the corrupt Earl who ruled their province and his heirs, who seized nearly every penny the people earned and kept it for themselves—lived in comfort. Years ago, when Hohenheim and his wife had been newly-minted alchemists, young and arrogant in their abilities, they had foolishly challenged the Earl. He'd responded by banning alchemy and forbidding anyone to hire the alchemists for any other work, on pain of imprisonment. The pair were left to eke out a living in secret, bartering alchemy for food and goods among the few villagers brave or desperate enough to defy the law. Years of punishing hunger had left them unable to have children; he grieved that when he died, she would be left utterly alone.

His thoughts were interrupted when the door to his room flew open. "I've done it!" his wife exclaimed as she rushed in, breathless. "I've found the cure!" Her eyes were wild, and he was horrified to see blood streaming down her left side—a lot of it. She had tied it off with a sheet that was already soaked crimson.

"Darling!" he gasped, triggering another spasm of coughs. "You're bleeding, what happened—"

"It took some of my flesh," she waved dismissively. Her pupils were dilated and she was trembling; she must have taken elixir of coca to blunt the pain. "And some of my soul. I have less life in me now than you do, darling. But it doesn't matter.'' She held up a bright red object the size of a five-cenz piece. "I've created a Philosopher's Stone!"

His jaw dropped; this was the Holy Grail of alchemy, something no one had ever been known to do before in history. He knew she'd been trying—every alchemist tried at some point, convinced they would be the one, though no one even knew where to start. But his wife was brilliant. Somehow, impossibly, she had succeeded where all the others had failed.

"How did you…" he began, but stopped as she drew closer and a terrible smell hit his nostrils. It was more than just blood running down her side, he realized in horror; it was also bile, viscera. He could see the contours of where the sheet was tied now, saw just how much of her flesh was gone. If was as if a giant creature had taken a bite out of her side. "My darling, what did this to you?" he demanded fearfully.

"The Gate of Truth," she responded simply. Below her dilated pupils she was grinning, tugging on his hand. "It's not important. You need to come with me—right now!"

He stood with difficulty, his frail heart pounding with fear. What dark alchemy could have done this to her? What forces was she trifling with, and to what end? But he let her lead him into the kitchen. At the threshold he gasped with fresh horror; on the floor lay an unconscious man and woman, bound and gagged, each with a transmutation circle chalked around them on the rough wooden floor.

"Here." The words were barely tumbling out, such was her excitement. "The key to our salvation. We'll take their bodies for ourselves."

No. No—not like this! This was _wrong! _"What have you done, Dante?" he whispered.

She leaned closer to him, her hand on his shoulder—he tried not to flinch from her touch. "Take a look at who it is, darling. It's the Earl's oldest son and his spoiled wife. No one will mourn their loss." Her eyes were shining and not quite focused, a stranger inhabiting his wife's body. "The Earl is already dead. I used him to make the Philosopher's Stone. Along with…others."

"Others?" he managed weakly. His legs gave way beneath him and he sank to the floor, coughing blood into his hands. No, no, this was too much. The woman he loved was a murderer. The shock was stealing the last of his breath, his tenuous hold on life slipping.

Dante knelt beside him, taking his hands gently as she looked into his eyes. In that moment the wild-eyed stranger was gone, his beloved wife returned. "Listen to me. _I love you,_ Van. I don't even know who I am without you. Everything I've done is because I can't bear the thought of living without you." She lifted his hands to her lips and kissed them, and once again he could not pull away. She was his soulmate; he loved her, trusted her. Surely there must be some reason, some justification for her actions. His mind swam—he just needed to _think._

She was gazing somberly at the bound couple. "It's wrong to kill. I know that. But these people…how many in this village have starved because of them? They don't deserve to live while good people like us suffer and die." She turned back to him. "This is our chance to take back what they've stolen from us, Van! Their health, their lives—even the fortune they'll inherit. Think of all the good we could do with those things!"

His lungs struggled for air as he erupted in coughs again, leaving splatters of blood on the floor. He was growing weaker in more than just body; truly, he did not want to die. And the Earl's family were villains, just as she'd said. His gaze fell to where the couple lay still, their faces calm and peaceful. They would never wake up, he realized, never feel the pain and terror of having their bodies ripped from them.

_It would be different if they were awake,_ he told himself. _We're not monsters._ His eyes lifted to his wife's face, and slowly, though weighted with guilt, he felt his head nod.

She smiled gently in return, only love in her eyes. An arm wove around his waist, her body warm against his as she guided him into the circle with the bound man. She kissed his cheek before retreating outside its perimeter. He felt numb and cold now, with no more will to resist what was to come.

Dante's hands clapped in the air, a sharp sound cutting the silence. Gripping the Philosopher's Stone, she lay her hands on the transmutation circle, which began to glow with red light, growing brighter and suffusing her face with energy. As she stared hard in concentration, the light danced through the intricate markings, driven by the calculations in her mind. It reflected in her eyes as her expression grew more intense, more confident. Her smile grew larger and more triumphant, her eyes wilder, until at last she laughed, exultant in her power.

Gasping for breath in the center of the circle, Hohenheim stared in awe and chilling dread at the stranger who had once again replaced his wife. His eyes never left her until the last of his vision was overwhelmed by brilliant red light.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

_Present Day  
>Central City Military Command<em>

Hughes was just hanging up the phone with a sigh as Mustang walked into his office. "Yo, Roy," he greeted his friend with less than his usual enthusiasm. "Looks like I'm going to have to manage without my beautiful wife and daughter for awhile longer. They're extending their stay in West City like we talked about."

Roy took a seat in front of his desk. It was a smaller, temporary office, befitting Hughes' current status of "administrative light duty," more red tape to remind him that the military was keeping an eye on him. "What did you tell them?" Roy asked quietly.

Hughes dropped his own voice. "As little as I could with worrying Gracia." His shoulders slumped. "I still can't believe it. The _Führer_ is a homunculus!" he whispered, shuddering slightly. "I trusted that man."

Roy nodded soberly. "At least now we know. We can take precautions." It was thanks to Edward, who had buried a coded message within his absurdly lavish expense report for automail repairs in Rush Valley. Though the boy had not explained how he'd come by that knowledge, Roy trusted his word. The news had left them reeling and uncertain what to do. But for now, Roy only sighed and dismissed the grim topic with a wave. "You called me here for something else, right? Have you had any breakthroughs on the Morishita case?"

"Yes. Maybe." Relieved at the change of subject, Hughes reached into a drawer and pulled out two file folders. "I figured the best place to start was at the beginning. If we can determine who the girls were and how they were taken, that's one step closer to figuring out where they are." He drummed his fingers idly on the desk as he spoke. "I looked through all the unsolved kidnapping cases nationwide for girls of the right age and time period. Happily—I say this as a man with an adorable young daughter—it's not a very common crime. Most of the cases are solved pretty quickly. But of the ones that weren't, two stuck out."

He slid the top folder over the desk to Roy. It held only a few pages. "The first is an orphaned Ishvalan girl who went missing from a civilian clinic during the war. Does the name 'Rockbell' mean anything to you?"

Roy scowled as he opened the folder. "I take it you mean the Rockbell doctors. The couple that Grand executed in Ishval." Hughes only shrugged; though there had been rumors, the details of the incident weren't well known outside of Grand's unit. "That was supposed to be my mission," Roy muttered. "An unauthorized clinic was treating Ishvalans, and Grand wanted it dismantled. But I happened to get some leave away from the front just before then, so he took Kimblee instead. When I got back I heard they'd been executed on the spot." Roy's jaw was clenched. "I've always wondered what would have happened if I'd been the one who went. If I would have followed that order."

Hughes nodded sympathetically. Grand's cruelty was well known throughout the military, at least. "Anyway—" he tapped the folder, returning Roy's attention to it "—the Rockbells filed this complaint a few weeks before their deaths. A newborn girl was taken from the clinic in the middle of the night. Whoever did it knocked out the only witness from behind first, but that guy was pretty sure he caught a glimpse of an Amestrian soldier's uniform. The military never investigated it, of course."

Roy was turning through the file. "Mother died in childbirth, no other relatives located. No known surname." He closed the folder and handed it back to Hughes. "Convenient for the military."

"Yeah." Hughes frowned. "We have a little more info on the second case. This one happened a week later in East City, so we've got names and an address. Another newborn." He slid the second folder to Roy. "The parents were named John and Mary Smith. The man was a soldier, a low-level officer of some kind, and the military took over the investigation almost immediately. Again, there's no sign they pursued it." He paused. "That's the official story, anyway."

Roy was reading through the file. "You think there's more to it?"

Hughes sat back in his chair and sighed. "I've found no trace of an officer by that name in East City during that time period, and no record of any soldier living at that address." He ran his fingers through his hair. "Things were pretty chaotic during the war. It's possible the files just got lost. It's also possible they were deliberately scrubbed. Or that the names were aliases to begin with."

Roy turned to the last page, his black eyes flickering intently over the words. "It doesn't sound like there's much here to go on, Hughes." He closed the folder and set it back on the desk, rubbing his forehead tiredly. If the information had rekindled any hope in him, it didn't show. "Even if you figure out who the girls were, how would it really help us?"

"I won't know until I get the info. That's how investigations work, Roy." Hughes drummed his fingers on the desk, lost in thought. "Anyway, I've got Sheska looking for any files we might have missed. I'll keep you posted."

"Thanks, Hughes. I appreciate your help more than you know." Roy stood and moved toward the door. "In the meantime, I've just gotten word that my team and I are being deployed to Liore next week. There's been some unrest brewing, and the Führer's decided to send troops in." He scowled again. "Bradley will be accompanying us personally."

"Oh." Hughes dropped his voice back to a whisper, frowning. "Be careful out there, buddy. Don't let your guard down." Roy nodded, an ironic smirk touching his lips before he walked out the door.

o-o-o-o

Back in Dublith, Hughes' replacement as head of the Investigations Department was gloating. "So I see the Fullmetal Alchemist has been caught consorting with criminals," Colonel Archer smirked as he stared down at Ed. "It wasn't enough that you disobeyed orders and failed to bring in that boy as ordered—"

"We never had the boy! He ran away and we lost him!" Ed shot back, glaring. He, Kayla, Izumi had been rousted from the Devil's Nest along with Sig, who'd been waiting anxiously outside, and marched down the block to a section of street cordoned off by the military, ostensibly for their protection. This was a major military operation; they were being made to sit on stacks of sandbags, surrounded by a wall of soldiers, and in the distance shouts of more soldiers and muffled cracks of gunfire could be heard. Though they'd been handed blankets and water canteens to preserve the fiction that they were being helped instead of detained, it had been made clear that they weren't allowed to leave.

"Then you should have reported that to a superior officer, _Major_ Elric."

"Cut the crap," Izumi interrupted. "We know the military already has the boy."

Archer's eyebrows shot up. "The status of our investigation is classified, _citizen_. If you have access to that information, then someone has been leaking it without authorization." He swiveled back to Ed, barely able to contain his glee. "Dereliction of duty, criminal association _and_ revealing state secrets…oh yes, we'll have plenty to discuss at your court martial."

"Bring it on!" Ed leapt to his feet, fists clenched. "I haven't done anything wrong and you know it!" But Archer simply chuckled, turned his back and walked away. A pair of guards pointedly remained close by, their hands steadying the automatic weapons hanging from their necks.

Izumi exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping as she sagged against Sig. Kayla's healing had repaired her immediate injuries, but she was still exhausted. Sig patted her arm. "As long as we're stuck here, honey, you should try to get some rest." Izumi nodded wearily and allowed her eyes to drift shut.

On the other side of Sig, Brooke sat hunched beneath her blanket, using the big man's bulk to block the soldiers' view of her face. She was on edge, all her muscles tensed. Ed shot a last glare in the guards' direction, then moved over to sit beside her.

"You OK?" he asked. She nodded, but he could see the tension lining her face. It was more than just being held by the military. "What is it?" he asked.

She swallowed. "I can smell chimera blood. Tons of it. And lots of gunpowder." Tears were welling in her eyes. "I think…most of Greed's gang is dead."

"Kayla?" he whispered in alarm. "Al?"

She shook her head. "Their scents aren't there. They got away."

Ed let his breath out in relief. In another moment his hand slipped discreetly toward hers, took it and squeezed. She shook away her tears and smiled up at him. He slipped his arm around her waist, and she did the same, leaning close with their shoulders touching. For now there was nothing more they could do, so they sat quietly as the shouts and running footsteps of soldiers swirled around them.

o-o-o-o

In the tunnels beneath the street, Greed's gang had dwindled considerably in number. The two still on their feet were white with shock as they fled, trying not to think of the friends they had left behind them, cut down one by one by the pursuing soldiers' bullets.

"They're catching up," the big man with mutton-chop sideburns called to Greed. He ran with Al slung over one shoulder, wrists and ankles still bound and the female chimera still inside his armor; but despite the double burden he was barely winded. As they turned a corner, he stopped.

"What are you doing, Roa? Come _on,"_ the homunculus urged. "It's not much farther—"

"This is as far as I go, Boss." Roa set Al down and addressed him. "Hey kid, I know we haven't exactly been friends. But I'm betting you don't like the military any more than we do. You don't want them getting a good look at that armor of yours, do you?" Al shook his head, bewildered. "OK then, I'm asking you a favor. Can you help get Boss and Martel out of here safely?"

"Roa, no!" Greed protested.

Banging came from inside Al's armor. "Don't you dare, Roa! Let me out and I'll fight with you!" the woman—Martel—called.

"No! I can save you both!" the big man yelled, sober fire in his eyes. Down the tunnel they could hear the shouts of solders moving closer. "There's no other way."

"Yes," answered Al. "I'll help your friends escape."

Pained determination filling his eyes, Greed finally nodded. Roa quickly released Al's shackles, then turned and laid a massive punch into the tunnel wall beside them. It cracked and fell open to reveal another tunnel next them, a stairwell to the surface in view.

"Go on," Roa urged. He lay a hand each on Al and Greed's backs and shoved them through the hole.

"Wait!" a girl's voice called to them from down the tunnel. A blur rounded the corner, streaked past Roa and leapt though the hole, skidding to a stop beside Al and Greed.

"Kayla!" Al cried in surprise as she dusted herself off.

Al's armor was banging in earnest now, the helmet shaking as Martel attempted to knock it free. "Roa!" she cried. "No!"

Greed's eyes met those of his henchman. "Thank you," he murmured somberly. Roa nodded, then punched the wall again, sealing himself off in a shower of rubble.

"Halt!" they heard the muffled shout of a soldier through the wall, followed by a loud crack of gunfire.

"Come on!" Al called, one hand taking Kayla's and the other grabbing Greed's arm, pulling them both into a run toward the stairs.

A few moments later they burst above ground into sunlight. Around them they found silent warehouses, no soldiers to be seen. They didn't stop running.

o-o-o-o

The noonday sun beat down on the street outside of the Devil's Nest, making the four detainees hot and miserable. Things were quieter now; most of the soldiers were out of sight, and the sound of weapons being discharged had grown more muffled and distant as the chase descended into the sewers. With none of the activity visible from outside, even the soldiers left to guard them looked bored.

Colonel Archer continued to mill around the street with his aides. From his seat on a stack of sandbags, Ed watched as he disappeared into the office across from the bar.

Beside him Brooke's head jerked up. "Hey," she whispered to him. "Nina's father is here. He's in that building with Archer."

"Huh? Are they fighting?"

Brooke shook her head. "I don't smell fear coming from either of them. I think they're just talking."

Ed's fists clenched. "If that guy's working with Tucker, then he's more than just a jerk. He's an enemy."

Brooke nodded. "We should be careful." She inhaled deeply, then added, "There's another man with them too. Someone who was at Laboratory 5 that night. I'm not sure who."

Another bout of muted gunfire cracked, this time directly below them; it startled Izumi awake, exhausted fear flashing in her eyes. She recovered quickly and compensated with a stream of curses. Sig tried to put his arm around her, but she shrugged him off testily. "I don't need coddling. What I _need_ is to get out of this makeshift jail."

They were still being guarded, but the soldiers had drifted further away, distracted. "I'm getting tired of this too," Ed concurred. He beckoned the others closer. "I have an idea."

It was much later in the afternoon before one of the guards noticed that the prisoners, huddled beneath their blankets, had been holding unusually still for some time. Yanking away the blankets, he was aghast to find four crude dummies staring back at him, their surfaces showing the telltale marks of having been made with alchemy.

"Sarge!" he yelled frantically over his shoulder. They were going to be in _so_ much trouble when Archer found out.

o-o-o-o

"Um, Mr. Greed?" Al spoke up. The group, trudging through the woods, had been silent since fleeing the Devil's Nest. But the pounding inside Al's armor was becoming insistent again, his helmet threatening to lift from his shoulders. "Is it OK to let Martel out?"

"You let me out or you don't take another step!" came a muffled voice from inside the armor. Al's legs stopped moving, though he was visibly still trying to walk.

"Hmm? Yeah, sure." Greed stopped, surveying the area absently. His expression was pained, grim.

The snakelike woman burst out as soon as Al unfastened his helmet. Her face was red and puffy as if she'd been crying. "Boss!" she cried. "Let me go back there and avenge our friends. I'll go covert, take them out one at a—"

"Forget it, babe! That's a suicide mission and you know it!" Greed snapped. After a moment his tone softened. "I've lost enough friends today. Don't make me lose my last one."

Martel's shoulders slumped, but finally she nodded. "So what do we do?"

Greed was staring off in the distance. "The military's known where we are all this time, known _what_ we are, and they left us alone until today. 'Til we walked into that house." He squared his shoulders. "Looks like I need to pay the old lady a visit. It's time we settled things."

"Do you mean Ms. Dante?" Kayla interjected. "You know her?"

"You could say that," Greed replied with a faint smirk.

"I'll go with you," Martel declared.

"No. You stay with these kids." He gestured toward Al and Kayla. "If I'm not back by sunrise, you go your own way."

"Boss!"

"That's an _order,"_ Greed barked. "I told you, I've lost enough today. Promise me, Martel." He leveled his gaze at hers, and after a few moments hesitation, she again nodded resignedly. He clapped a hand on her shoulder and squeezed briefly as she looked away.

The homunculus turned to Al and Kayla. "Take care of my girl," he ordered, his mouth shaping into a grin. "I'm Greed, right? I don't like to lose my possessions." With a last wink toward the three of them, he strode off into the woods.

Martel stared after him for a long moment, then wiped the water from her eyes and turned back to Kayla and Al. "Guess we're stuck here 'til morning," she sighed, flopping down to sit on the soft ground. "We might as well get comfortable."

o-o-o-o

"I'm telling you, it's this way." Brooke was pointing toward an unseen point in the woods. "I can smell the herbs in the garden." As the sun dipped low, she and Ed trudged through the woods alone, Sig and Izumi having stayed in town to find a place to lay low. The military would be looking for them all after their escape.

"But I know Al and I went this way," Ed protested, pointing in the opposite direction. "I recognize the notch in that tree."

"You and Al went all over the place—your scents are everywhere. Admit that you got just as lost as Kayla and me. We got to Dante's first, remember? And you guys left before we did."

He sighed and threw up his hands, his lips twisting into a smirk. "Fine, know-it-all. Lead the way." With a smirk of her own, she obliged.

But in a moment she sobered. "Do you think Izumi's right, that Dante can help us find Kayla and Al?"

"Let's hope s—" Ed was interrupted by a loud roar from the trees ahead of them, accompanied by a flash bright enough to rival the setting sun.

"That came from Dante's!" Brooke gasped.

"That was alchemy!" Ed exclaimed. They were both already running toward the mansion.

o-o-o-o

Greed saw it too, approaching the mansion from the opposite direction. His face twisted into a grimace. An alchemical reaction of that much power could only mean one thing, and it wasn't good news for him—Dante was always at peak strength right after a transformation.

Clenching his fists, he stepped up his pace. He was taking an insane risk, but Dante had already taken too much from him, and one way or another it was going to end tonight. _Let's get it over with, _he thought grimly as he marched through the forest. _It's you or me, "Mother."_

o-o-o-o

Far away on the other side of the woods, Kayla, Al and Martel simply waited. Kayla sat staring at her hands, clenching and unclenching them absently as she tried not to remember the sights she'd seen in the tunnels, the fallen bodies she'd had to step over as she ran after Greed's gang. It hadn't seemed real, as if they'd only been sleeping. Beside her, Al and Martel were silent and grim, undoubtedly dwelling on their own memories. _I'll think about it later,_ she told herself, pushing the thoughts from her mind. _Right now I just can't._

She turned to Martel, desperate for any small talk. "So, um," she began shyly. "You're a chimera?" A few hours ago this would have been the most important thing on her mind.

"That's right. I was bonded to a snake." The woman's dark mood lifted a bit; she seemed grateful for the distraction. She flexed an arm, twisting it in directions that would have been impossible for a human, and the diamond-shaped pupils in her golden eyes flashed mischievously. "It's a little inconvenient for normal life, but perfect for a life of crime. Makes it easy to get in and out of tight spaces."

"Um," Al asked politely, his own mood lightening a little, "would you get your human body back if you could?"

"Dunno. As far as I know, it's not possible, so I don't really worry about it." She turned to Kayla casually. "Would you?"

"Uh, m-me?" Kayla faltered. "I don't know what you—" But before she could react, Martel leapt up and snatched the knit fedora from her head. Kayla's hands flew up to her feathers, too late.

"Being part snake makes me really good at sensing things, too. I knew from the first minute I saw you," Martel grinned, tossing the hat back to Kayla. A wave of her hand took in all three of them. "Guess we're all freaks of alchemy here, huh?"

"I guess so," Al agreed with a rueful smile.

"Well, as long as you know, can I ask you more questions? I've never met any other chimeras besides my best friend," Kayla asked. Her words began to tumble out excitedly. "How long have you been a chimera? Do you ever set things on fire? Can you heal people? Can you fly?"

"Wait, slow down," Martel chuckled. "One question at a time. We're here all night, you know." She cocked her head with interest. "What's this about flying, now?"

o-o-o-o

The antique wood floors creaked as Greed stepped through the hallway of the silent mansion. Dante had not yet revealed herself, but he'd found the old woman's corpse lying on the floor near the entrance of the main parlor.

The homunculus felt himself grow weaker as soon as he stepped into the room; yet he was drawn in further, irresistibly, his eyes scanning for what he knew lay within. There—on a table lay a skeleton, neatly preserved, scraps of its brightly-colored burial clothing still clinging to it.

"Recognize the remains?" A pretty young woman with chin-length brown hair and brown eyes stepped into the room behind him. She wore a strangely old-fashioned long skirt and Xingese-style jacket. "I'm afraid your former body hasn't aged well."

"Looks like yours didn't either." Greed countered, gesturing back toward the body on the floor. "How long did that one last—was it even 20 years? But I see you got a new one. Who was the lucky donor?"

"A naive apprentice. No one of importance." Dante's young shoulders shrugged. "And my current limitations will be over with as soon as I get a new Philosopher's Stone. I'm close, by the way."

"Oh right, the Philosopher's Stone. As soon as you get some poor sap to make one for you," he drawled sarcastically. "Too bad the Gate didn't leave you enough of your soul to make another one yourself. Or that your husband didn't stick around." Her eyes flashed with anger, but she did not reply. "Bet you've still got my stupid siblings chasing after it, huh?" he continued with a sneer. "Still believing you'll use it make them human. As if you care what happens to any of us."

She shrugged again, her expression cold. "You're a means to an end, my children. Nothing more." She clapped her hands, and a bright red light began to etch a transmutation circle on the floor beneath their feet. "And I'm afraid your end is today. You've become too much trouble, Greed. Time to seal you away for good."

His eyes widened in horror as he realized the purpose of the circle. He'd expected a fight, been prepared to die—but not this, not to be sealed in endless purgatory between life and death. The homunculus struggled to run, to flee the circle, but he was nearly paralyzed. "No!" he shouted. "I won't let you seal me, you monster! I'll die first!" His heart hammered in terror; he tried to harden the skin on his fingers, use his Ultimate Shield to turn them into claws that could slice his own throat, but he was too weak. His legs beginning to buckle, he managed to pull a knife from his belt. Dante casually strode over to him and knocked it from his hand.

"Now now, my son. Don't make have your death on my conscience. A mother cares about these things." But her lips were twisted into a smirk, eyes glittering with cold satisfaction—she was _enjoying_ this. Defeated, Greed fell to his knees and began to vomit up red stones.

"I hear something—this way!" came a teenage boy's shout from down the hall. Dante's head snapped toward the sound, her red light faltering as she whispered a curse.

"Looks like we'll have to finish this later," she muttered. "Don't bother running. You know I can find you wherever you go." By the time Greed dragged himself upright and out of the circle, she was gone.

o-o-o-o

"You!" Ed yelled at Greed as he and Brooke ran into the parlor. His voice was shaking. "What did you do with my brother? And our friend?"

"And why did you _kill_ Dante?" Brooke demanded, emotion in her voice. "She was a nice old lady!" The teenagers had been greatly shaken to find her body in the hall. If this criminal would kill a defenseless elderly woman, who knew what he might have done to Kayla and Al?

Greed threw his head back and laughed. "Nice old lady? You kids have _no_ clue." He sagged against a pillar, looking oddly exhausted. Ed didn't wait to find out why: he rushed at the homunculus and attacked, alternating martial arts kicks with punches from his automail arm. Grinning, Greed responded with dodges and counterblows. "Now this is more like it," he crowed.

_He's gone insane,_ thought Brooke as she ran back to Dante's body. It was hopeless—the old woman was already dead, the body nearly split open—but still she tried, laying her hands on the body and willing her healing chimera energy to come forth. Though the corpse glowed with purple energy, it remained still and cold. After several minutes of trying, Brooke sat back, drained from the exertion.

She turned her attention back to the parlor, where Ed and Greed were still locked in their fight. Beyond them at the far side of the room, she spotted a table with a skeleton laid upon it. Her eyes swung back to Dante's lifeless body—had he removed her _bones?_ No, the scent was all wrong. And oddly familiar.

The fight was ramping up; Ed clapped his hands and transmuted his automail hand into a blade, and Greed's skin turned dark as his Ultimate Shield kicked in. Darting past the obliviously battling men, she reached the table and looked at the skeleton more closely, breathed in, concentrated. The bones were old, maybe a hundred years old. The scent was a little different, but there was no doubt in her mind: they smelled like Greed. They must be the remains of whomever the homunculus had been when he was human. She had to quickly step out of the way as Ed and Greed came crashing into the table. Ed had the upper hand currently, and Greed looked pale and weak. But the homunculus managed to flail his way free and run to the other side of the room, where his color and strength quickly improved. _It hurts him to be near the bones_, Brooke realized. _I think we just found the homunculi's weakness._

Her thoughts were interrupted by a yelp of pain. She turned to see the shocking sight of Ed, his automail transmuted into a blade that was sticking _through_ Greed's chest. Blood poured from the wound. "What did you do?!" cried Ed, sudden anguish in his voice. "Why did you lower your shield? I didn't mean to—I didn't want—!"

"To kill me?" Greed was grinning again, his teeth stained pink with blood. "Yeah, sorry about that, kid. It was a dirty trick. I just wanted to go out with a good fight. And this was a great one." His legs slowly sank under him and he slid to the floor, pulling Ed with him. "Beats the alternative."

Brooke sprang toward him, purple energy already sparking from her hands. "Hold still! I can help—" But as she slid to the floor next to him and tried to lay her hands on his chest, he pushed her away.

"No, sweetheart. I don't want that. Let me go." He coughed and blood dripped from his mouth. "There are worse things than death that can happen to a homunculus, trust me. My time's up, and this is how I choose to go."

Ed and Brooke exchanged agonized looks. Slowly Brooke lowered her hands and let the purple light fade out. "OK…if that's really what you want," she told him sadly. "Can you at least tell us where Kayla and Al are? Did you hurt them?"

"Of course not! I don't hurt kids. They're hiding out in the woods with my henchwoman." He coughed again as the teenagers' shoulders sagged in relief. His voice was growing weaker. "I didn't…kill Dante either…Watch out…for that one…She's dangerous."

"What are you talking about? Dante's dead!" Ed exclaimed. The homunculus only mumbled something they couldn't quite make out as his eyes drifted closed. Then his head fell to one side and he lay still. Ed shook his shoulder with his free hand. "Hey…wake up…HEY! YOU CAN'T REALLY DIE!" He yanked his automail hand free and grabbed both Greed's shoulders, shaking his limp body with a wild look in his eyes. _"Don't…you can't…I didn't mean…!"_

"Ed," murmured Brooke. "He's gone, Ed. Let him go, OK?" She gently pried his hands free as Ed stared into the air, eyes wide with shock. "It's all right. It'll be all right," she crooned. Her hands found Ed's shoulders, pulled him into an embrace.

His arms encircled her tightly. He was trembling, hot tears falling on her shoulder.

"_I didn't mean to kill him,"_ he whispered.

"I know," she whispered back with tears in her own eyes, comforting him as best she could.

o-o-o-o

In the forest, the black night sky slowly lightened to blue, then to gray as the sun prepared to rise. Al, his armored body incapable of sleep, sat propped against a tree where he'd kept an anxious vigil all night. A little ways away Martel also sat upright and awake, staring at the woods where Greed had disappeared, alone with her thoughts. Only Kayla had fallen asleep, her head pillowed demurely on Al's shoulder. It had occurred to him halfway through the night that he could have transmuted her something more comfortable, even a whole bed, but she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Besides, he admitted to himself guiltily, it was nice having her there, even if his metal body couldn't even feel her weight against him.

The gray sky brightened to gold as the sun began to slip over the horizon. Al saw Martel's head slowly dip toward the ground, her shoulders sagging. Quietly, he touched Kayla's arm to wake her. As she rubbed her eyes sleepily, Martel stood and turned toward them.

"Guess I'll be going now," she said, her voice taut and emotionless. "Thanks for the company." She turned and began to walk away.

"Wait!" Kayla jumped to her feet, Al following. "You don't have to go! Greed might still come—"

"He's not coming." Her face was set in stone. "Whatever happened, happened by now. And he's not here. That means he's not coming back."

There was an awkward silence. "You don't have to be alone, Martel," Al said finally, his voice grave. "You can come back to town with us, and we'll, I don't know. Just come with us." Kayla nodded encouragement.

For a moment it looked like she might be considering his offer. Then her lips shaped into a smirk. "Nah, I gotta go my own way. Thanks though. Really." She offered a casual wave as she walked off into the woods. "See you around." And she was gone.

Kayla and Al stared after her sadly. "Is this OK?" Kayla asked worriedly. "Should we…do something?"

Al shook his head reluctantly. "I don't think there's anything we can do."

"Al! Kayla!" They were interrupted as Ed burst through the trees behind them, Brooke rushing in after him. "Are you guys OK? You didn't get hurt or anything?"

"We're fine," Kayla replied with a polite smile. "Greed and his gang turned out to pretty nice! Or at least…" Her smile faltered. "They were." Now her face began to crumple, tears springing up in her eyes. Brooke stepped forward and clasped her in a hug.

_I know, _Brooke told her silently. Kayla was surprised to see tears in her friend's eyes as well. She was even more surprised when she saw them in Ed's.

"Greed, he…" Ed began. "He, um, died." He waved the news away angrily and turned his back on the others.

"He wanted to die," Brooke explained, wiping her eyes. "He tricked Ed to make it happen."

Al gasped. "That's awful, Brother! I'm sorry…"

Still with his back turned, Ed waved off his brother's sympathy. "It's done now. There's nothing we can do about it." A hand brushed the water from his eyes, then after a moment he turned back to face the others. Grief had turned to steely determination. "We can only worry about what comes next. The military will be looking for us. We need to get out of town." The others nodded agreement.

o-o-o-o

The bait house on the Dublith docks had been owned by friends of Sig's family since he was a little boy. It made a convenient place for him and Izumi to hide out; they would stay here until the military called off their search and moved on.

It also smelled like fish guts. "Ah, this is nothing!" Sig declared cheerfully. "Not nearly as bad as spoiled meat." He and Izumi sat on a wooden bench in the back of the shop.

"This is the one time I'm really glad I can't smell anything," Al remarked. Ed wrinkled his nose at him; Brooke, holding her nose shut and looking like she wanted to gag, positively glowered.

The door opened and Kayla rushed in. "I found him!" she declared. "If we keep this up I'm going to run out of feathers," she added to Brooke with a laugh.

Major Armstrong swept in behind her. "Little one! You're all right!" he exclaimed, sweeping Brooke up into a bearhug. "I was so worried when I heard you'd been detained! Fortunately Archer didn't learn who you were before you escaped."

She reluctantly freed her nose to return his hug and grinned. "Thanks, Uncle Alex. Are they still looking for us?"

The bald man shook his head. "No. In fact I only have a few minutes, because Archer has ordered our unit to return to Central. It seems our mission in Dublith has concluded."

"Makes sense," Izumi observed drily. "The military captured one rogue homunculus and killed the other. All the dirty work is done."

"So it would seem," Armstrong concurred.

"What else can you tell us?" Ed interjected. "Is there anything else we need to know?"

He considered thoughtfully. "There's been word that Scar is in Liore," he told them. "If you still have business with him, I suggest you move quickly. There is also unrest among the Liorean citizens, and the military is preparing to move in." He glanced nervously over his shoulder. "But I should return to my post now, before Archer sends someone to look for me." He swept the girls into a quick bearhug as they said their goodbyes.

Ed turned to the other teenagers, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It might be risky, but there are still a few questions I'd like to ask Scar. How about it—anyone feel like a trip to Liore?" Al, Brooke and Kayla nodded.

He and Al turned to Izumi and Sig. "I'm sorry we got you into this mess with the military," Ed told them.

Izumi waved off the apology. "It's not the first time, won't be the last. You can make it up to me by not getting caught." Unexpectedly, she grabbed both boys into a hug. "You two are the closest thing I have to children. If you get killed, I will personally come to the Gate of Truth and give you an ass-kicking like you've never had. Understood?"

Laughing, the boys nodded agreement. "That's fair," Ed conceded.


End file.
